


We, who quietly bleed

by howmanyisaksandevens



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Break Up, M/M, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-01-31 23:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12692829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howmanyisaksandevens/pseuds/howmanyisaksandevens
Summary: They break up, they get back together, they live happily ever after or so I choose to believe.The first month, no euphemisms or poetry, was shit. Hell. The next one wasn’t any better. Then, he shut down, went numb for a while. And one day, suddenly, he caught himself squinting at the sun, reading further than his homework demanded, stealing Jonas’ half of the kebab they had agreed to split, laughing, wearing cologne, wasting shampoo, scoring a goal in soccer, dancing in a party, sleeping eight hours, losing himself in an orgasm, reciprocating a kiss, planning a trip.(I don't want to stoke false expectations, so despite the additional relationship tags, and although I like the other ships too, Even and Isak are the main one for this story, since it seems it's impossible for me to keep them apart.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How do I dare? Don't know, but I did and here it is!  
> Not an English native speaker and all that stuff.  
> Fair warning: this is my love letter to Isak, who's my favourite character ever. I tried to do justice to the other characters depicted, but well, I have to admit I was biased. So, there'll be lots of wonderful boys falling or nearly falling for this deeply flawed angel, which might be hardly believable for some people, but whatever. This is just my harmless fantasy.  
> There's some Eskild/Isak and some Jonas/Isak, and some others/Isak, which is all part of the road.  
> No smut, just a couple of explicit mentions of certain sexual acts.  
> Story is pretty much finished, so whatever response I get, I'm gonna keep updating it.

Hey.

Hey.

Coming home soon?  
I made dinner.  
Well, I tried.

Thank you. I’m sure it’ll be fine.  
I’ll be there in half an hour. 

Cool.

There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.

Spoilers, please?

I’d rather say it in person.

Fuck.  
That bad?

I’m sorry. I’ll be there soon.

Just come.  
I love you.

 

“What did I do? Just tell me where did I go wrong? Please, just give me another chance. I’ll be better. I know I can. I’ll fix it. For you, I’d do anything.” Isak didn’t really see it coming. Once in awhile, he’d get cold feet or elicit a nervous laugh to appease the quivering in his stomach while scrutinized by Even’s unyielding stare and uncharacteristic silence. “Are you drawing me?” He got a little bit disappointed when the reply started being a constant negative and then, each time, he allowed himself to be blindsided by Even’s gentle kiss, his smile, still sweet, but deprived of the sparkling eyes. He hadn’t been scared enough. 

He should have been trembling and cowering, taking refuge or running, getting ready for the end of the world. Instead, he allowed himself to be complacent, cocky maybe, barely pondering the possibility now and then, like the remote danger of succumbing to a natural disaster, a traffic accident or a terrorist attack. They had overcome so much after the milestone of Even’s first episode. Both of them had freaked out and ran away at some point: Even, after one very dark secret of Marianne’s deterioration dug itself out in a night of too much alcohol, and after another family horror suggested itself in a welt on Isak’s thigh and a bruise on his jaw. Isak, when Even went through a brief period of being too pushy, a little too rough, impossible to exhaust, way beyond public displays of affection, which Isak was still a little reticent about, into the territory of erotic exhibitionism. 

They both came back from it all, stronger, so willing and able to defeat anything for the other, they decided to move together, started talking about marriage and the far future, instead of taking it minute by minute. With cohabitation, new secrets came to light: Isak’s pettiness and his crippling insecurities, the revelation of what had been Even’s lowest point, followed by his ramblings about old imaginary debts now extensive to Isak: as a couple, they had the conjoined duty of assisting Mikael, poor, confused Mikael, in the acceptance of himself. 

Undefined ghosts from Isak’s earlier years (he wouldn’t give them existence by cataloguing them in his conscious memory), and Even’s bouts of excessive energy haunted their dreams, kept them awake at nights. They didn’t mind the forced vigil so much. They saw it as an advantage, to be living when others where flirting with death, to gain more time with each other: they made love and were silly, played games from their childhood, watched and re-watched movies, drew on each others’ bodies, made copious and exotic dishes that they only devoured partially at unhealthy hours, fucked in absurd positions, in almost dangerous imitations of pornography (fortunately no one landed in the hospital, but both of them sported at some point cramps and soreness that lasted them for days and served as learned lessons), took long walks hand in hand, once with their right legs tied up to each others’ by their belts, just for the sake of it. Isak got pouty cause they didn’t manage to take more than five or six steps before falling on their faces, but Even comforted him, “we just have to get up and try again, there’s nothing we can’t accomplish together”. 

After all that, Isak really doesn’t think he can be blamed for trusting they couldn’t be broken by little quarrels over domestic chores, Isak’s well-intentioned tendency to be overprotective and Even’s shiny new experiences at university. 

He can’t tell when it started. Had he noticed, he would have done more, tried harder. He only started becoming suspicious when Even’s disenchantment had already permeated through everything, from the sex to the little routines, when his tediousness acquired the quality of dust or haze, it couldn’t be grasped, but sprinkled everything that made them, it could barely be seen, but obscured their vision of each other. It struck him first when he saw Even’s broad palms resting open and foreign on the mattress while they made love. They hadn’t burnt the whole expanse of Isak’s skin before turning him over to fuck him. 

“Baby, it’s too hot.” The first times Even objected, Isak just moved away slightly. He hadn’t thought anything of it, again, hadn’t felt, hadn’t allowed himself to feel much more than mild and temporary disappointment. Another diminutive tragedy that caught his attention when he had already let it happen. His weight or his warmth suffocated Even; cuddling, which had been so second-nature to them, became a special event always preceded by Isak’s request. Even never said no. He smiled brightly and opened his arms. Isak understood. He appreciated the space too. Sometimes people just need to fart discreetly, allow their armpits and breath to stink, without someone there to point it out with a giggle or a flare of the nostrils. Bony limbs, clammy skin and cold feet at some point lose their charm. Isak started showering more frequently, used more shampoo, wore cologne, applied lotion to his hands and arms, washed their clothes with a lavender detergent, added an extra drop of vanilla softener to their clothes. 

Too little. Too late.

He became aware of how Even migrated towards other friends when they were outside, hanged out more with different groups of people, not really hurrying to come back home. It hurt, but Isak, again, convinced himself it was normal. Just the transition from honeymooners to cohabiting couple for them and from high school kid to young adult for Even. Isak would catch up with him in a year. He was not going to be a possessive boyfriend. He was going to keep moving forward alongside his love, stay in tune with him. Even needed space, time on his own. Isak was not going to be selfish and hold him back when he was shining, finally stable and happy enough to enjoy everything this new stage of life had to offer him. He wasn’t doing anything bad and he always returned to Isak’s arms. 

Until he didn’t. Still, and so stupidly, stubbornly, he didn’t want to lose what they had, he didn’t want it to change, Isak decided there was no cause for alarm. He was just having innocent sleepovers at his parents’ or his friends’. Isak wasn’t going to make a scene. He didn’t fight him. Maybe he should have. Maybe that was what Even was missing: raw passion and drama, the anguish he called “epic” that domesticity and tenderness couldn’t compete with. He mentioned it calmly, seated on Even’s lap, stated he’d prefer it if they slept together every night. “We’re each others’ beginning and end of the day.”

He’d been so wrong. Even was his beginning and he will be his end. Isak, on the other hand, has been just a stepping-stone. “I’m sorry.” “But why?” “It’s just not working. It’s just not the same.” “Of course it isn’t. We’re growing. We’re moving forward. Together.” “I feel we’ve become stagnant.” “We are settling down. At least give me some more time. Give us some more time.” “My time with you has been the most beautiful time of my life. I mean that. I’ve never felt for anyone they way I used to feel about you.” “You don’t love me anymore?” “I don’t want a repetition of Sonja.” Isak shuts down. He can’t fight against that. He knows he’s going to regret it: not begging, not crying, not clinging from Even’s leg to prevent him from walking out on him. Even is right. Isak doesn’t want to be the person who waits on the sidelines, who takes care of Even during his highs and lows, who keeps loving him through the pushes and shoves, the cheating and the trash-talking only to still have to hand him in the end to the new love of his life. 

They move onto practical decisions. That, Isak can handle. Not the pain, not the rage, not the insurmountable question: now, what? Even is honest. He’d like to keep the apartment. Isak can take whatever he wants and Even will pay him back the money he invested in the property to make it habitable for the both of them. “Don’t be stupid. I lived here too. It was only fair.” “Is it okay that I stay? Where will you go?” “I’ll fix it.” Always the gentleman, the hero, the brave fighter it would be cowardly to resent, Even offers to keep paying full rent and stay with his parents til Isak finds a new place. It’s the sole minute when he allows himself to be petty, spit at the gorgeous, shining boy who’s made him so happy and who’s now breaking his heart without batting an eyelash, all his resentment and hurt. “No. I don’t wanna owe you.” 

Still, he ends up indebted to Even. Without his intervention, Isak would have ended up roaming the streets of Oslo or sleeping at the cheapest hotel (it’s the beginning of the month, so his monthly allowance is already gone). He wasn’t planning to tell anyone yet. He was too hurt, too ashamed. Even must have been the one who had the kindness to message Eskild while leaving the apartment for the night, so Isak has time to collect himself and pack his belongings. “Are you completely sure? There’s no turning back.” “I know. I’m sorry. If we’re meant to be together, we’ll find each other again.” 

When the bell rings, he’s still standing in the middle of their, of Even’s tiny studio/dining room/living room, arms useless and heavy, strange appendages turned enemies cause they weren’t strong enough, gentle enough to keep Even cocooned against his body. Eskild. “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t cry. He’s not sad, he’s furious. His body screams at him to get into a brawl, exhaust himself til he can’t breath, drink and keep drinking to oblivion. He rejects Eskild’s hug, “I’m alright”, and focuses on the raw feeling of his throat, “I’m alright”, while he sorts out his clothes, personal effects and school materials. “There’s no rush”, Eskild tells him, voice soft, “Even will sleep at his parents’ and he’ll text me to see when he can come back.” 

Isak is ready to carry everything that belongs to him on his back or die trying. He’s been told he can come later for anything he might leave behind, but for Even’s well-being, Isak has not intentions of setting foot in this place anytime soon. Or ever. If he does, no human power could yank him out of here again. Or perhaps Even himself would be enough to kick him out for a second time and that would just be too humiliating, even for him. 

At midnight, they’re done and exhausted. Eskild has work tomorrow and Isak has school. Bless this saint of a man who’s rescued him time and again and doesn’t even mention the possibility of spending the night here and moving out first thing in the morning. Isak doesn’t take any furniture with him, not even kitchen supplies, except for a dining set and a generic mug. “Baby, there’ll be more break-ups in your life. You can’t just walk out with what you’re wearing every time.” Oh, he’s not planning to. Just this one time. He’s not planning to be dumped again either. Next time, he’s going to stay alert and beat the other at the game.


	2. Chapter 2

Isak and I broke up.

WHAT THE FUCK?

It’s between us. I’m texting you cause he might need emotional support.

Between you? You hurt him, you pick a beef with   
me. That goes without saying, love.

Well, it’ll have to wait. I have to get out cause my   
presence here won’t be convenient for him right now. Will you come   
or should I call Jonas?

Fuck you. I’m on my way.

 

He asks to stay in the basement. “Linn won’t give a shit, but I don’t want Noora to see me and start gossip about it.” Eskild stands his ground. Absolutely not. They’re going to find out eventually and gossip is bound to explode anyway. “We’ll just ride it together.” They’ll bunk for the time being, “I won’t participate in a threesome”, “Idiot, as if I could get it up with you”, until they find a two-bedroom flat. “What?” “Roommates. You need one, right?” “You’d leave the girls for me?” “Unlike you, they can take care of themselves.” So, Isak cries. Just tears, no sobs. Eskild has to wipe at his nose, poor little thing, envelops him in a hug, “It’s gonna hurt like hell and it’ll feel like it’ll never stop, but I’m gonna be with you all the way.” “Why?” “Because you’re a wonderful boy and I love even your grumpy self. Blow.” 

Linn is already in her room when they arrive, but just like the poor boy feared, Noora is still up and, even worse, she’s having William over. They’re entangled on the sofa, watching something, lazily making out. How many times has Eskild caught Isak and Even exactly in the same situation? “Fuck”, Noora says when she sees the bags. “We broke up. No questions, please. I’ll just stay for a few nights.” Her eyes are bugging out of her skull, but Eskild just shakes his head. He loves her, but he’ll protect Isak time and again from her misplaced curiosity. 

William is earning a few points. Maybe people can change. A low- profile asshole can become a decent person, a ray of sunshine can become a cold fuckboy. Eskild _knows_ people change. This is what gay boys do. Bisexual boys. Pansexual boys. Boys who like other boys. It’s normal, it’s natural, it’s been done to him, he’s done it to someone else too. He’s not proud of it, but it’s the cold, harsh reality. Isak will do it to someone else. Eskild should have warned him. He didn’t want to poison him, taint what they had, plant seeds of doubt. He didn’t want to be the cynical bitch. He wanted to believe in romantic fairy tales. Love is possible in this world. Even had loved Isak. He just didn’t love him forever. He just didn’t love him enough.

On their way downstairs, they realize William is following close behind. Eskild thinks maybe he’s already leaving, not wanting to take part in the gay drama. Instead, he starts carrying boxes upstairs. “Go sit with Eskild and Noora, if you want. I can take care of these.” Isak shakes his head, keeps working along til they’re finished, which doesn’t take long. He really doesn’t own too many things. Maybe a part of him was foreshadowing this outcome.

When they’re done and Isak asks to use the shower, Noora stops him for a moment and hugs him. Isak doesn’t reciprocate. He stays stiff, tolerates it, “Even is an idiot if he lets go of the two of you.” Then, he reacts, but not to yield to her soft comfort as could have been expected. He holds her at arms-length, glares at her and leaves. Noora turns around to look at Eskild, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean…” “Just let him be. He’s heartbroken, but he still loves him. Of course he won’t like you to say shit about him.” And just like that, Eskild goes back to thinking the only good thing about William is his ridiculous emo hair. Oh, well. He’s packing too.  
They share the bed that first night. Eskild tries to cuddle him, but Isak rejects the attempt. “I need to break the habit.” “You don’t need to explain.” He’s seen him broken before, miserable, ready to give up, to get lost. He’ll bounce back. “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it…” “Thank you. I know.” As expected, it’s a rough night. Eskild sleeps intermittently, awakened every hour or so by Isak’s restlessness. “Baby, just try to close your eyes.” “Do you have something? A sleeping pill?” “It’s not a good idea.” “Please, just for tonight. I need to sleep, Eskild. Please.” 

He shouldn’t. He knows where Linn keeps her Ambien. Isak really needs to sleep or he’s going to make himself sick or, even worse, do something stupid like jumping on the first available dick or going to Even with threats of slitting his wrists if he doesn’t take him back or... He feeds him the lowest dosage and at least it knocks him out for a couple of hours. Afterwards, the tossing and turning restarts and at six o’ clock, Eskild, who dozed off around five, finds him bundled in the sofa, eyes red and swollen, nothing left of the happy, pretty boy he saw less than a week ago. “If I could go through this instead of you, I would. I’m sorry if I hurt you in the past, whether you deserved it or not. I’m not perfect, but I’m here. You are not alone.”

Surprisingly, something in his speech clicks. Isak looks at him with eyes as huge as Noora’s earlier and falls into his arms. He cries without words and doesn’t stop when Eskild’s shirt is soaked and Linn comes to the living room, annoyed at first, then confused and then so sad. She hugs him from behind, kisses his hair, doesn’t ask questions. She gets up and goes to the kitchen, brings chamomile tea. “It helps me when I’m on my period and I feel like shit.” Isak drinks it, his voice breaking on the “thank you” and then he just lays his head on Eskild’s shoulder, no more tears, just a blank stare. “It’ll pass?” “Positive.” It’ll change you, take your innocence away, make you more cynical, initiate you in dark rooms, saunas, PrEP, poppers and loveless sex, but it’ll go away and I’ll always be there holding up every version of you.

Noora makes breakfast for everyone, Linn serves him more chamomile tea, “we need to keep you hydrated”, William gives both him and his girlfriend a ride to school and offers to pick them up after they’re finished. “Thanks, man, but I don’t think we share a schedule.” “I stay til two today. You?” “Half past three. That’s fine. Thank you.” “I’ll go pick Noora at two and then I’ll go back to pick you. It’s alright. I’m done with my classes at noon anyway.” “Accept the offer. We need to keep his lazy ass busy.” Isak smirks tiredly at that and Eskild can’t help himself. He blows him a kiss. “Hug?” Isak shakes his head, so Eskild drops it. He understands: it’s too soon to touch him casually. He still might be feeling like a walking wound, his entire body a mass of exposed flesh and burnt skin.

He cleans after their breakfast, tidies the room he apparently now shares with an eighteen year old boy who’s not overly fond of showering. He allows himself to cry a bit, for Isak and for Even, for all that love gone through the drain. Then, he stops. Looks for two-bedroom apartments, saves a few numbers. He’ll call after work. “Do you know what happened?” Linn looks pale and worried standing under the threshold. He shakes his head. She sighs. “Men are shitty?” “Gay men specially.” 

He beckons her to sit by his side. “The four of us can’t fit here.” She nods. “You’re going to leave us, right?” “Isak needs me more right now.” “Why don’t you two just share? He can sleep with me when you have a guy over and you can bunk with me when he’s feeling alright and gets a new boy. He will, you know?” He knows. How will Isak’s next conquest look like? How long will it take him to allow someone new into his home, his ass, his mouth, his heart? Eskild hopes it’s sooner rather than later. Even was his first gay kiss, his first dick, his first everything. He’ll meet new boys, new men who will touch him better, who will set him on fire, make him drop his pants in a park, fall to his knees in a public toilet. “Isak needs to anchor himself. He needs a place to call his own.” “I’ll miss you so much.” “I’ll miss you too, but we’ll still see each other all the time, and you don’t need me right now, honey.” Maybe she will in the future, maybe Noora will, and he’ll always fly to the rescue of these little strays he’s chosen as family. Right now, Isak’s the one in the ditch, and Eskild won’t admit it out loud, but even if he’s the latest addition, that little grumpy boy is his favorite. He kisses Linn’s forehead and adds. “What you’re gonna need, though, is someone for the third room.” She nods, smiles sadly. “Help me write the advertisement?” 

Afterwards, Eskild leaves for work. He can’t afford to be distracted, so he stops worrying about Isak until it’s almost four, time to go home. The doctor thanks him, shakes his hand. “You’re very helpful, Eskild.” He accepts the compliment without arrogance, thanks the doctor back, just like everyday for the opportunity, leaves the gown, picks his backpack and goes back.

At a quarter past four, Isak arrives, the three musketeers and William in tow. Jonas’ eyes, brows and hair look crazy. He corners Eskild in the kitchen. “I’ll kill him.” “How? Hitting him below the waist?” “Why not? I’ll rip his dick off and leave him to bleed.” “Stop.” “What happened?” “It’s between Isak and Even. Whatever it was, we’re only here to help, not to pass judgment.” “I’ll kill him.” They eat and the boys take over the living room to play FIFA, but Magnus and Isak seem really out of it. 

Finally, Eskild calls Noora to make the announcement. “Isak and I will move out, so if you know of two-bedroom apartments at convenient prices or of someone interested in a bedroom here, let us know.” “We haven’t discussed this?”, Noora, simultaneously to Jonas’, “No need. Isak can come live at my place”, and William’s “Cristoffer is looking for a place.” When Jonas rolls his eyes, Eskild realizes whom he means. “Seriously, man? Aren’t you worried about that fuckboy sharing a roof with your girl?” William glares coldly at Jonas, “I trust Noora”, and yeah, the score gets balanced.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi, Even. I’m sorry I reacted poorly to the news.   
Could we maybe meet to talk?  
I’d just like to know what happened, to help Isak better.

Ask him. Trust him.

Maybe it’s something I could help with?  
Maybe there’s a way to fix it?

No, Eskild. We’re over.  
Maybe one day, in the future, our paths will cross   
again. But right now it’s the end.

Okay, poet. You two live in Oslo and share friends so your paths   
will probably cross again tomorrow, but whatever you say. 

Goodbye, Eskild.

See you around. I’m here for you too, fool.

When he arrived at his parents’ place and announced he was going to spend the night there and oh, he had just broken up with Isak, they both were taken aback. He recognized the fear. He had stopped to ponder the possibility, before doing something irresponsible, but didn’t feel it was the case. Then, when he explained the situation, precisely and rationally, just like he had exposed it to Isak, his mother seemed relieved, “he was a lovely boy, and I’m sorry if he’s hurting, but he was not right for you, honey.” His dad asked about the flat. “I’d like to keep it. It’s time I try to manage on my own.” He approved, “That’s very brave”, then added, no bitterness, voice devoid of emotion like each time he’s forced Even to confront cold facts, “I’d be proud if you had made that decision before moving in with Isak.” 

And that was pretty much all he mentioned about the matter, except for the pretty much obligatory question, “How did he take it?” Even shrugged. “He’s young. I was his first love. I never meant to hurt him, but…” “Where will he go?” “They’ve taken their separate paths. It’s not Even’s responsibility anymore.” His mom cut in, calmly and effectively. She too could enounce cold facts. His dad countered it easily, expression peaceful and flat. “Even made a verbal agreement about living arrangements with another person. It is his responsibility. Where will he go?” “He’ll move back in with Eskild”, his dad just nodded at that, seemed ready to dismiss the conversation, dismiss him, so Even rushed, “I know you liked Isak…”, only to be cut off again, “You’re my son. Your well-being is my first priority.” It was meant to show support, Even thinks, but it felt so much like a rehearsed statement, it almost sent him, that very same night, to knock on Eskild’s door and beg Isak to take him back.

He’s glad he held his ground. He really thought he was gonna regret it. Instead, he feels fine, free. Of course he misses Isak, feeling loved like that, against everything, through anything, coming back home to his soft arms and his bright smile instead of an empty flat. They agreed to cut off all contact til the pain dulls a bit, give themselves time to get back on their respective feet, find a new path to thread. 

Even really thinks he could have handled the occasional chat, the accidental encounter, but it would have made matters more difficult for Isak. He cares about him, friendship is a very comforting possibility once they’ve both healed. Although it might seem harsh, he did what was right, it wasn’t working out, they were fighting too much, resenting each other, they didn’t share common goals anymore, the needed to grow up first, independently, not like some long lost siamese twins who kept pulling and pushing to get their way. Maybe, one day, they would instead really be like those double men some Greek philosopher talked about. Whatever their respective future may be, whether individual or separate, he wasn’t going to allow the beautiful story they shared (the most romantic of their age, one that should be preserved in songs, movies and books, and not tainted by mundane reality), to degenerate into bitterness, laziness and habit. 

During the first couple of days, the news spread throughout their common circle. He thought about acting gentlemanly and leaving the chats he shared with his ex, just the way he had done for Sonja, but Isak beat him to it, no warning. It surprised him, hurt him a bit, made him a little mad, how desperate the other boy apparently was to severe all their bonds. There wouldn’t have been any need, since the chat they shared with Isak’s boys became pretty much silent and in the one that included all the 99ers, plus William and himself, he chose to reduce his participations to a minimum: the generic “nice pic” if someone shared a photo. Except for Jonas, who predictably started pretending he didn’t exist, they all kept being polite to him. Vilde even invited him to a few outings and parties, mostly because “a university guy would make their bus more popular”, but he declined for Isak’s sake. 

The first days, sometimes someone (Vilde, Chris or Magnus, usually), would incur in the impertinence of making a comment about Isak’s heartbreak, and once, Even felt brave enough to offer some indirect comfort, “Please, tell him not to feel bad, he’s an amazing person, and I’m sure tons of guys will want to love him the way he deserves.” It was met with general silence, except for a “that’s so sweet”, from Vilde and a laughing emoji followed by “brother, just shut up”, from Cristoffer Schistad. Shitstad. Seriously? Even decided he wouldn’t comment on anything Isak related from then on. He kept coming up, in the form of anecdotes from school and occasional pictures where he looked like his normal self, a bit thinner, maybe, Even could see clearly the contours of his cheekbones, and dark circles under his eyes. He felt a bit guilty, but reminded himself it was just a part of the process. Isak couldn’t really count on his parents, but had a killer support system among his friends. 

Since he was no longer attending Nissen, he didn’t see much of them in person, except for a couple of casual encounters with the girls at Sana’s house. He asked if everyone was doing fine, and he expected them to understand his concern extended to Isak, though he was avoiding a repetition of the foot in mouth he had apparently incurred in at the chat. He’s sure if something had gone wrong (seriously wrong, he knows Isak would be sad and moping for a short time), they would have told him. Once, when the chat’s activity started dwindling, he attempted to ask Sana, “I haven’t really heard from Isak recently. We didn’t part in bad terms, you know?” She closed off immediately, her eyes turned into darts. “I know. When he wants you to hear about him, I’m sure he’ll come to you.” “Do you resent me?” “You didn’t break up with me, Even”, her eyes and her voice softened, she became all dimples and cute nose, “If you had, I would have ended you.” “But you just got defensive when I asked.” “I think Isak has the right to decide with whom he shares information about himself.” She touched his wrist, comfortingly. “And I think you have the right to make decisions about your own life and be happy.” 

Magnus never stops exchanging memes with him and weekly asks him if he’s doing okay. On a particular day, when he’s in a bad mood just because, his reply is too rude, “I’m the one who broke up with your friend, I got over him a long time ago”, and Magnus doesn’t retaliate. He just texts back, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything like that”, followed by a single tear emoji, so Even feels like shit. He apologizes, gets a row of super happy yellow faces, but not another question about himself, just memes and memes, until he finds out Vilde broke up with the boy cause she’s come out as a lesbian. Drama unfolds, he’s kept blandly updated by Yousef, “yeah, she got drunk and told Eva she thinks she likes her, but Eva hugged her and said it’s fun to make out with girls at parties, but she prefers boys”. “That’s rough.” “It’s honest.” “What about Magnus?” “I don’t see him that much. He seems to be fine.” Should he? “And Isak?” Yousef hesitates for a second, then he smiles, knowingly or something that irks Even, but he swallows it cause he want to hear the answer. “I don’t see much of him either. He seems to be okay too.” “Is he seeing someone or…?” “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” 

Even gets to see for himself when he’s going on a mission to raid the Bakkoush kitchen (he volunteered cause there’s chebakia and mamools), and Isak is coming out with a glass of water. They both stop in their tracks. It’s not difficult to smile at the sight of him, but it is almost impossible to just stay there, rooted to the floor like an idiot, instead of reaching out, grabbing him, and saying “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I made a mistake”, but Even manages, which means the longing is not real, just the consequence of the shock and his hypersensitivity, and they exchange a few words. Isak starts walking away first and doesn’t spare him the time to ask how he’s doing, though it would have been a stupid question: he’s evidently thinner, hollowed cheeks, dull gaze, so Even punishes himself by not allowing himself a single piece of chebakia. 

Instead, he goes back to Elias’ room, grabs his stuff, “Isak’s here”, “So?”, “It’s still awkward, man”, and cries all the way home. He decides it’d be better to spend the night at his parents’ and when he goes to check on Isak’s virtual accounts, he finds out they’re both gone or he’s changed them. He considers asking someone, anyone, if they know what the new ones are, but opts against it, cause it could look weird and okay, it’s not healthy. Instead, he signs in as Art Vandalay, replays “The Boy Who Couldn’t Hold His Breath Under Water” a few times and since he can’t sleep, he starts working on the second part.

Of course Mikael and Yousef were informed of the reason behind his escape and he was confronted about it, “Yeah, I miss him sometimes and seeing him sent me a bit back, but I’m only human, you know? He was the love of my life or something”, “Yes, it’s normal, just don’t start ruminating it too much”, “Did Sana say something?” “No, she didn’t. Let it go. Isak doesn’t really talk about you, man.” It was brutal, but Even understands Yousef’s good intentions. 

The issue is pushed aside when Elias comes out as “probably bisexual” and Mutta as definitely gay and that’s all they discuss for awhile. Now, Even admits they weren’t being specially nice or correct people when, tangled in the sheets and each other’s limbs, Isak and himself would place bets about which one of his friends would come out of the closet first. Even actually thought Elias. “Come on, Eskild suspects him, and the stress of it is what’s making him turn to the bottle.” Isak’s chips were on Mikael and immediately after, Adam. “Even, you might have been manic, but you’re not crazy. If you saw signs, it’s cause there were signs. And, come on, look at him going with Adam. They’re more coupley than us!” “First, we’re the most coupley of couples and second, if you see stuff that’s not there, it doesn’t mean crazy, just schizophrenic.” “Fuck off. Schizophrenic is crazy!” “It’s not.” “So what qualifies as crazy nowadays? Do I have to start running around in my mom’s clothes like that guy in the movie to get creds as crazy?” “No. Then you’d just be a transvestite.” “Transvestites don’t stab people in showers and they don’t mummify their mothers’ corpses.” Isak would have laughed. Seriously. What are the odds? Four out of six people. Five, if they count Mikael, who Even knows for sure can be admitted under the queer umbrella, however vague he decided to be with Isak in respect of his friend’s privacy. 

Mutta’s parents have already known for a year and they helped him get ready to tell his friends. Elias’ mom doesn’t take it so well. She smiles at first, tells him she loves him, but then she kindly suggests psychological help and maybe a bit of distance from certain friendships, and it all ends with a crying fit so raw and broken, it spooks Elias to the point of making him reconsider if it’s worth exploring that side of himself. Fortunately, his dad hugs him, tells him there’s nothing wrong with it, his mom just needs time, reminds him he loves him the same and he’s proud of having such a brave boy, kisses him and keeps being the warm man they all know, while he helps his wife through the ordeal and reminds his children to keep their heads high. 

He bumps into the boys at their usual kebab place (Mahdi and Magnus stop to say hi while Jonas just keeps walking), “How are you, guys?” “Cool. You look neat, man. You on your own?” “No. I brought some friends over. Best kebab in Oslo.” They laugh, Magnus winks an eye, “best kebab near Nissen at least, wait til next year, we’ll broaden our horizons”, “Isak’s not with you?” “No. He turned out to be a bigger nerd than we thought, usually stays behind to help with the revue stuff.” “Oh. Who’s boss?” “Eva.” You guys won’t be part of it?” “Yeah, yeah. We will. We just need to recharge fuel first.” 

Even doesn’t follow them immediately after they say their goodbyes. He eats with his friends from uni and then his feet take him to Nissen. He sits on their bench and reads the words Isak carved once there, when he was a bit drunk, “Even and Isak forever, in every universe”, and he runs to the bathroom where they first talked, he takes all the paper towels, checks himself in the mirror, he’s fine, he’s free, he’s enjoying his new life, sits inside the same stall Isak came from and waits and waits and waits, composes a message, “Dear Isak, now I’m sitting in the place we met for the first time and I’m thinking about you. Soon, it’s going to be 17:23. I want to say a thousand things to you. Sorry for leaving you. Sorry for hurting you. Sorry for not being able to love you the way you deserved. I was scared of losing you. I’d forgotten you can’t lose someone. Everyone’s alone anyway. Another place in the universe, we’re together for all eternity. Remember that. I loved you. Even.” He presses “send” and bolts out. He’s not proud of himself, he’s fine, he’s free, his enjoying his new life, he’s just feeling nostalgic, he doesn’t look back.


	4. Chapter 4

Man, I’m hungry.

Eat dick.

Fuck you.

Not gay.  
Though, you may.

Standards, man.

Pffft. You wanted me once.

Once I was young and stupid.

See? Some things never change.

Like you trying to kill me of starvation.  
Hurry up!

On my way.

At least he gets the text on a full stomach. His blood goes cold, exactly like it did that first time, screw what Eskild says about it, exactly like it did when Even came home, didn’t kiss him and instead greeted him with “I have to break up with you.” He springs up, runs to the bathroom. He’s not there. “Isak?” Jonas. The boy who’s as lousy as himself, the gay boy, to make his girlfriends happy (although he goes down on them, a mental image Isak won’t even start to conjure), but who always knows exactly what to say to bring him back. “Please, don’t be angry.” “What’s going on?” He shows him the text. He’s too scared to think, he’s too scared to move. Jonas will know what to do. “It’s nothing.” “Jonas.” “We crashed into him today when we went for kebabs.” “Was he alright?” “Not pining for you, at least. He was there with friends. I left. The boys talked to him. He was fine, Isak.” “But what if…” “Call his parents. Show them the text.” Jonas is right. Jonas always knows what to do, how to bring him back. 

Isak knows Even’s dad has kept in contact with Eskild. Isak knows it’s been about him. He picks up immediately. Isak tries to be very polite, goes to the point, forwards him the text Even sent. “Thank you, Isak. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of it.” He hangs up. Isak’s half glad he didn’t give him time to add, “let me know if he’s doing fine”. He could text it, but he knows he shouldn’t. “We set up traps for ourselves, we keep doors open, words hanging, half phrases, unanswered questions.” After he lost twenty pounds in less than a month, Eskild dragged him to a therapist. “I don’t need it. I’m going to school, I’m cleaning.” “You crash on the bed as soon as you come back from school or are done with the chores. You are not okay, and it’s not just about Even. You haven’t been okay for a long time and you need to get that head checked. Isak, I love you, but all my love can’t give you what you need right now. I’m not going to stand back and let you waste away in peace.” 

It was not the first time he had gotten to feel exactly what Even went through during his depressive period, but the previous experiences (when his dad left and when Even broke his heart for the second time), still hadn’t prepared him for the unfamiliar sensation of dying. The food tasted like cardboard, he kept breathing, but never seemed to intake oxygen enough, he was just so tired, every small movement required a titanic effort when his limbs felt like lead and the space around him offered resistance. The doctor put him under a very gentle dose of fluoxetine and pregabalin, and ordered him to compliment it with generous amounts of certain foods (whole grains, blueberries, spinach, poultry, fish, nuts), and daily exercise. “No social networks for awhile. We’ll ease our way into that.” It felt a bit like cheating. Of course avoiding Even would create the illusion of having gotten over him, but what would happen when he had to face him? 

So, he disobeyed. He had changed his relationship status first thing, in a useless gesture of revenge that wouldn’t even disarray Even’s perfect hairdo, but refused to take off the Facebook and Instagram pics. He kept replaying “The Boy who Couldn’t Hold his Breath Under Water” and didn’t cry and didn’t sleep afterwards, he rewinded their story together through pictures and comments and low-key stalked his ex, that’s still a punch to the guts, via other people’s accounts. “Let’s set goals: a day without, now two, now three.” At the mark of a week and a half, Isak decided it was better to rip the fucking bandage off and deleted both his accounts. Surprisingly, it somewhat worked. Without noticing it, Isak started reading more, having people over and when he finally crashed into Even at Sana’s, time kept moving and so did his feet. “Hey.” “Hey!” “Studying?” “Yeah.” “You two are geniuses.” “That we are.” He can’t say he was absolutely suave or managed a smile or wasn’t eager to go away as soon as possible, but at least he turned around to look at him in the eye and did a military salute before taking refuge in Sana’s room. 

The text shakes him even more than that brief encounter. He worries, and wonders, what if, what if, goes back to “The Boy Who Couldn’t Hold His Breath Under Water”, has a minor heart attack when he can’t find it, but breaths again when he realizes it’s just made private. Even’s dad replies to his message, “Even is fine. Please, don’t try to reach him.” Surprised, he realizes he actually hadn’t, and feels like scum, but he’s not scum, he’s doing what the doctor said, “he sends a text saying he’s gonna kill himself, you contact his parents and walk out of it. Don’t try to help him. You’re just gonna make it worse for both him and yourself. He’s a very vulnerable young man and you’ve got to be responsible for yourself.” 

He doesn’t sleep, and suspiciously, Jonas doesn’t text him more than a couple of times and Eskild invites him to his room for “Netflix and platonic chill”. Eventually, he caves in and texts Yousef. “He’s fine”, is the answer, “I saw him today. Why?” He doesn’t elaborate any further than, “please, don’t tell him I asked. It wouldn’t be good for him.” “Okay. But are you alright?” He tears up. Just a couple little tears which he wipes out almost violently and puts his phone back in his pocket. Sana will tell Yousef how he’s doing. He sits down at his desk and decides it’s time for job hunting. Later, he goes out with Eskild and they buy three cheap Venetian masks imitations they hang on one of the bare walls.

Slowly, the flat gets decorated. The masks first, lamps, a couple of exotic looking cushions (tacky), a small center table, a painting that’s actually worth something, a small army made of model aircraft Eskild likes to assembly and paint. “I did it with my dad when I was young. Before, you know, everything went to shit.” He learns about his guru’s backstory. His parents always knew, “hellooo!”, but they waited until he turned eighteen and said it out loud. “I’m gay. Surprise”, to ask him to move out. To this day, they still send him financial help, on the condition that he changes sidewalks if he ever sees them coming down the street. “I’m sorry I never asked.” “It’s alright. You’re here with me now.” They link pinkies and Isak’s honestly never felt more protected or loved. This place feels like home. He’s earned it through privations and hard work, a minor confrontation with his dad, “You were too young. You never listen to me. Dad knows best, Issy”, and the wreckage of his heart. He’ll survive, he’ll be fine, but he’ll never be happy as he was back then, with Even, at that other flat where he was just a temporary guest.

Sana drops by more frequently, neatness attracts her, apparently, and eventually tells him she’s been slacking at school cause she’s worried about her mother. She’s slowly getting better, but she still has sudden crying fits and then just wants to go to sleep. “I don’t know if I’m more worried or angry. It’s all cause Elias told her he’s bi or something.” “He is?” “Seems to be.” “I’m sorry?” “Don’t be stupid.” “But how do you feel about it?” “I know some people will treat him like shit, but what’s new. He’s my brother, gay or straight, it’d still be gross to picture him boning someone. It just frustrates me so much that my own mom has made such a big deal out of it.” “Maybe it’s because how she’s been raised? My mom’s super religious. It hasn’t been easy on her either, but I know she loves me as usual.” Her smile is so sweet, Isak puffs his chest out and decides he needs to be a better man, worthy of such friendship.

Undeservingly, Eva’s been another one of his rocks, steadily coming to hang out, til at some point Isak even felt in the mood to walk to her place and climb up her window. At first, they didn’t really have much to talk about, so they watched gay shows and gay movies and enjoyed each others’ proximity, formed a new bond with lots of comfortable silences, independent of Jonas and the past. Eva and Jonas are definitively over and Cristoffer is no longer an option, which according to Eva is a pity, cause he did live up to his fame. “Penetrator”, she said, making an obscene gesture with the hands and Isak laughed out loud. He’s not seeing Emma any longer either, “she was the love of his life for about a week”, but he wouldn’t go near Eva probably cause he felt weird now about all that love chit-chat. Vilde and Chris don’t really come, but they talk in school and over texts, in the new group chat that has been created just for 99ers. Sara texts him too and she has suggested the possibility of showing up, but it takes one snake to know another, so although he’s somewhat fond of her after their shared history, he’s been postponing the invitation. 

The guys never stopped inviting themselves, not even when Isak still wanted to stab himself in both eyes and bleed to death, when he wanted to kick everyone out, just forget about me, I want out, I want to sleep, please, don’t come back, please just let me be. They’d bring pizza and played FIFA, watched action movies or the ones Jonas would suggest (those that reminded Isak of Even and made Magnus snore), discussed, agitated by Jonas’ passion, how they were gonna change the world, “Castro persecuted and tortured homosexuals, became a dictator and pushed two million Cubans to flee their country, Guevara is dead and look at what Maduro has done to Venezuela”, Mahdi the disenchanted realist, “let’s do it, man, let’s sell everything and give it to the poor, let’s go serve in a refugee camp”, Magnus, the enthusiast. “What do you think, Issy?” He thought he was a selfish, spoiled little brat who wasted money on sophisticated drugs to fix what he could overcome with a strong will and maybe a bit of weed, so he didn’t say much, but not even in his worst moments he allowed himself to do poorly at school, cause maybe, just maybe, a doctor could help somewhat. Magnus’ eighteenth party was the first one he attended after the break up, and he left relatively early, mostly cause Even had gone too, “He’s my friend, well, not like you’re my friend, but you know, and he probably won’t come anyway, cause he’s a university guy now, and no longer dating a high school guy, I mean, not that I know if Even’s dating someone, but, you know.” 

Despite Magnus’ reassurances, Even showed up, Mikael and Yousef as entourage, though the latter probably was there for Sana. It didn’t really look like he was dating anyone, and Isak was selfishly glad cause although he was already learning not to sabotage himself (one of his best friends’ birthday, his eighteenth birthday would’ve made for the perfect excuse), he hadn’t reached the point where he could witness Even serenading a new person with cheesy Gabrielle songs.

Noora and William have been there since the beginning, first as an involuntary result of Noora’s living arrangements, and afterwards with the excuse that Eskild couldn’t make anything that would entice Isak to eat, so as William, who turned out to be funnier than Isak would have believed, put it, their sacred duty as their friends was to teach them both how to cook “easy, nutritious and exquisite recipes”. They have movie nights and stay-in dinners, with Linn added, whether at their new flat or at the old Collective, where Schistad invites himself in when he’s actually at home (seldom). One of those nights, when Jonas and Sana are present too, by some coincidence, Isak talks about Even. He tells the story as he knows it, “One day he came back to the flat where we lived and told me he was going to break up with me. There had been signs, obviously. I just chose not to see them, I guess.” 

Turns out he was wrong and William is still a royal asshole cause Noora gets fed up and dumps his ass (Isak wonders if William actually realizes he’s an ass, he didn’t, and got equally dumped, no warnings), and in the private party she throws to celebrate her freedom, cause she’s a strong woman and she’s done crying for a man-child, somehow he finds himself hooking up with Cristoffer Schistadd of all people. “It was long overdue”, says the guy, impishly, and dives in for another kiss. “Oh my God!”, he hears, and gets a brief panic attack when he sees Eva and remembers who the guy currently trying to eat his neck actually is. He’s not doing this again, not to her specially, so he flails and scampers, struggling to escape from Cristoffer’s grasp, but she just starts taking pictures and laughing, before flinging herself at them, and no, he’s not gonna kiss Eva, but “come on, it’s just for fun, you kissed Sara and Emma, am I any less?”, no, of course not, so much more, and when he’s leaning in, Jonas blocks him, placing his own mouth on hers and then, oh fuck, on Christoffer’s, “whatever, don’t knock it til you try it”, (it’s a bit hot, to be honest), and finally on Isak’s too, and there are no fireworks, it’s so sloppy he laughs into Jonas’ mouth, but his best friend gives him tongue (is that supposed to be punishment or something, Isak laughs again, he distantly hears Magnus’ voice, “we should try that too, Mahds?” “No way”), but there’s no room for more people on the couch and anyway the four of them are too busy promiscuously making out with each other, in front of a bunch of incredulous eyes, until Vilde pulls Eva away, Christoffer Schistadd yanks him by the hand and Emma waves at them (when did she even got here?) before sitting on Jonas’ lap. 

He and Christoffer don’t become serious, of course. He’s not ready for a new relationship and the guy already tried that with Eva and didn’t last for a week. It’s just some old good fun. They’re not hurting anyone and it doesn’t feel awkward between them, not even when they do it for a second time and then a third. They don’t do much, really, just kiss, cuddle and exchange handjobs, until suddenly Christoffer says he’s ready for more. “You’re not my first guy, you know?” Isak, on the other hand, is not ready. He dissociated from himself for such a long time to be able to hook-up with those girls, that now he wants stuff to mean something. These first steps are alright with an acquaintance, a friend, a guy he’s shared some nice times with and who he cares about to a certain degree. But, to him, other forms of sex are too intimate, too exposing to just give them away and he’s not going to become that man who loses himself in mindless sex. He has Eskild, Jonas, Sana, Noora, Mahdi, Magnus, Eva to think of. He has his mom.


	5. Chapter 5

I’ll be waiting right here. Just type the pink bow emoji and I’ll go in.

Alright, guru. Don’t fret.

Not fretting.   
Everything okay?

Cool.   
I’m going out now.

Okay. I’m right here. Come to me.

Eskild takes him home. Isak walks silently, keeps quiet on the tram, pensive. Eskild’s dying to assault him with questions, but he doesn’t. If all Isak needs right now is to stay like this, eyes on the floor, shoulder touching Eskild’s, he’s more than happy to provide. “Will we get a Christmas tree?” That’s what he chooses to ask and it earns him a startled look and then a gasp, a crooked smile. “A Christmas tree?” “Yeah. And mistletoe.” “I don’t know. If you want?” “I want.” “Alright.” There are still a few days left til December, so no rush, really. “Mom told me she’d like it if you came along next time.” He looks at him from under his eyelashes. Eskild snorts. Does Isak think he might say no? “I’ll wear high heels and mascara, though.” “Eskild.” They laugh. Isak bumps shoulders and of course he rolls his eyes, “No need for shows of hypermasculinity here, baby”, and grabs him by the waist, lifts him up, he’s tall but light, still hasn’t put all the meat he’s lost during these few months back on his bones. “Was she okay?” “She was alright. She’s going back home in a couple of weeks.” 

It’s getting very cold, so they decide to camp in one room or the other most nights. “It would have been our anniversary.” Eskild nods, keeps browsing titles, tries to sound casual. “How do you feel about that?” Isak shrugs. Then, he chuckles. “I miss him”, his voice breaks, “I try. But then something… and blah.” “You’re human”, Eskild squeezes his shoulder, “But you know it’s getting better.” It is. It undeniably is. There’s some lingering sadness in pretty much everything he does and food still tastes like cardboard at unexpected times, but now not only his legs, but also his mind takes him where he not only needs, but wants to be, and air isn’t something thick that crawls inside his nostrils and robs him of breath. “Do you think I’ll ever fall in love again?” “Sure you will, Issy.” “Has it happened to you?” Eskild could laugh at that. He hasn’t really been in the kind of relationship Isak and Even were, though he had a first love who made promises and when the time came, decided, after all, he preferred girls. It’s the story he shares. It’s not the one that first comes up to his mind. “You haven’t brought a guy home.” He’s gone on a few dates, numerous sex escapades with guys he picks on grindr or Growlr when he’s in that particular mood, but he’s yet to spend the night away from Isak, and, unless Jonas or Linn are sleeping over, he hurries back home so the boy doesn’t stay on his own for a long time. “I prefer this”, he says, selecting the gay category, “which movie?”

This is a home. They set their little tree and together they place the star on the top, Eskild has the selfie as his wallpaper, and hangs up some mistletoe. “This is a nest of love.” Eskild says, proud of their work and laughs at Isak’s eye-rolling. He takes his hand and brings him closer. “We should have a small gathering, with your friends, baby Jesus.” Isak seems to consider it. “What about your friends?” It might look strange that a twenty-three years old guy is always surrounded by a bunch of high school teens, with the sole exception of Linn. He has quite a good number. From his former job, school, random people he’s met around or being introduced to while partying, a couple guys who turned out to be more than just great fucks. They’re not family, though. “You are my friends.” He only understands too late the expectancy in Isak’s eyes, when it’s morphed into disappointment. He opens his mouth to say something, he’s not sure what, cause he’s proud to be able to consider himself the least judgmental person there is, screw the stereotype, but he doesn’t want to drag his sweet boy into a scene he’s probably not cut for. Isak beats him to it: he lifts his gaze, gives a sheepish grin, “I really miss having fun”, and Eskild knows something important, a huge step forward in their little, private lives (what else does a common man have?), is being taken right here, right now, in front of him, so he discards his apprehensions, minute by minute and every step of the way, “You wanna go out?” “Yeah. I think so.” Isak’s smile, a mix of surprised, mischievous and blinding is one of the most beautiful sights Eskild’s gotten to enjoy.

Isak’s definition of “having fun” is not sucking a bunch of anonymous cocks in a dark room. His “go wild, go crazy, livin’ la vida loca” level reaches as far as allowing Eskild to apply a bit of glittery pigment on his eyelids, around the outer border of his eyes and on his neck and shoulders, which that Illuminati black shirt bares to the eye. “I wear skinny jeans sometimes, Eskild, but how do you even fit in these?” “Are you calling me fat?” “I’m calling you an exhibitionist. Look at my junk.” “Oh, yes. I’m looking.” Isak giggles. Fuck. Eskild leaves a kiss on his neck and slaps his butt not so harmlessly. 

They decide to take Noora along and, surprise, surprise, William shows up. “Shut up.” She silences them before they can express their well-intentioned and unnecessary opinions, and the guy doesn’t offer explanations or apologies either. “Chris is asking if he can join.” “No way”, Eskild answers, cause he doesn’t want any potential disappointment to taint Isak’s attempt at having a nice time, “we’re single and ready to mingle.” “That we are.” Says Noora and that prevents William’s insistence. 

They don’t really mingle, except with Even’s other ex, Sonja, cause of course the Providence won’t allow Eskild play Prometheus in peace. “Isak!” She’s sweet and so attractive, Noora gets a bit insecure and lowers her defenses around William, who, to be fair, keeps his “stoically sucking on a lemon” consuetudinary expression. As far as exes go, Sonja is running circles around Magnusson: she doesn’t ask questions, just hugs Isak, introduces them to a few friends she’s with, “I think you’ve met Eskil and Elise?” “Oh my God! Twin names!” Isak, who had a bit of a startled expression at the sight of those two, throws his head back to laugh at that, downs a shot and smiles at Sonja. “Noora and William. I think you’ve already deduced his name? This is Sonja.” “You look great!” “You too. I’m single, by the way.” She blinks once. “Everything alright?” “Yup. It didn’t work out.”   
Circles and circles and circles around, cause she doesn’t show pity, simply states casually, “Sometimes it doesn’t. Let’s go dance?” And dance they do. For at least three hours, non-stopping, in a huge circle, grinding against each other in the most bizarre combinations, William and Isak, William and the other Eskil, Sonja and Noora, Eskild and Elise, the two Eskilds, “Eskilception!”, they do body shots off each other, why the fuck not?, though Eskild stops when he notices himself getting too clingy with an already more than tipsy Isak, “don’t let me get too drunk?”, and Noora downing a second shot. Tacitly, he teams up with Sonja to scare off the predators that he had anticipated would describe a bee-line towards the jailbait whose waist he’s holding right now (William is a big boy who can take care of himself), and a couple of very aggressive femmes who keep slithering into their territory, despite Noora’s polite rejection. 

It’s fun and healing. Harmless. Afterwards, the seven of them decide to chase the alcohol down with some food, so of course it is kebab. The only downside would be that after Noora proclaims this as one of the “happiest nights of her life”, she kisses William, that really back-fired, though they should have expected it. It’s too sad to part ways, according to Isak, so they need to take a souvenir to ease the pain and keep the nice memories alive and blah. Sonja appoints herself to fulfill the role, since the shoe the other Eskil offered to provide was impractical, “it smells”, Isak whines, “Seriously? How are you going to walk home, Eskil?” “Minor details”. So, they take her home, arguing all the way about who she’s gonna sleep with. “Don’t be old-fashioned. I thought I was writing myself in for a threesome.” High-five, victory dance and Sonja’s laugh. “I understand why he loved you so much.” “The best people fall only for the best people.” “Yeah. Even’s the best.” “And so we are.” “And I am too?” Isak doesn’t hesitate before circling his neck with both his arms, forehead to forehead, “You’re in a completely different league.” Eskild knows he’s not, but he doesn’t say it, why shatter the illusion? Just quietly joins Noora’s happiest night of my life Saetre’s league. 

At home, Isak does offer a concise, unemotional summary, mostly to update Sonja, “we moved in together in March and it was great while it lasted, but he broke it off around the end of August. There was no cheating or anything like that and I would never hate him.” “I heard you weren’t together anymore. You’ll be fine, Isak.” “Do you talk to him?” “Not really. He didn’t like me very much when we ended our run.” “I’m sorry. You seem pretty likable. And I’m sorry for the other stuff too.” “Forget it. It was bound to happen and we had a great time too. I wasn’t liking him all that much either when we broke up.” That’s the extent of the scars comparison tournament and the memories of days-gone bye trade. 

They easily glide onto other topics, Isak’s school and his plans for the future, “Gynecologist? That’s… surprising.” “I don’t know. It’s an idea. I have a lot of female friends now and feminism and stuff”, “Well, you have a patient!”, Sonja’s photography studies and her random experience as an underwear model, “I was there to assist the photographer, but then the model’s appendix burst and they used me as a stand in. I felt a bit shallow, but whatever, some extra krones didn’t hurt”, (she’s currently sharing with Eskil and Elise, though her parents help), and Eskild’s new job as odontologist’s assistant. “I want to specialize in orthodontics.” “Yeah. He’s gonna give me a perfect smile pro bono.” “You already have a perfect smile. And I’ll charge you in sexual favors.” 

By the time they’ve opened the second bottle of wine, despite Isak’s whining, “Beer! I want beer!”, “Geez, Isak, being Norwegian doesn’t mean you have to be Viking about everything!”, Eskild gets the message. “Noora is in bad shape. She had a fight with William. Cris had to kick him out.” They’re out of the house in less than three minutes, having considerably sobered up. While riding the bike, Eskild swears the first thing he’s gonna buy with his savings is a little car. Nothing flashy, just a small, useful four wheeled sidekick able to take him in half the time to his kids whenever they light up the guru sign.

Noora is violently sobbing in Linn’s arms, repeating that they’re done forever, she’ll never forgive him, she’ll never take him back. Isak snaps out, “what the fuck did he do? I’ll fucking kill him!” Fortunately, Noora explains the details before he runs Cristoffer, Sonja and Eskild over to disappear into the night chasing the fucking Ashton Martin, “he didn’t hit me or anything like that, he just wouldn’t take no for an answer”, wrong choice of words, and that’s it, fairy or not, Eskild’s got muscles and he’s not afraid to use them, so he grabs the sputtering teen by the waist, drags him to the sofa and pushes him down. “Control your fucking self! You’re not helping! Let her explain!” 

William wasn’t physically or sexually violent, but he did cross a line when he refused to leave despite Noora’s request. “I asked him to give me some time. I was not playing hard to get. I love him, I still do, but I really don’t know if we’re good for each other.” William told her to take as much time as she needed, but asked to sleep besides her, nothing sexual, just sleep, he needed to be in her presence, feel her breath, or some other creepy shit, that yeah, Eskild’s felt but would never force onto someone else. “I said no, but he insisted, so I told him to sleep on the couch or to bunk with Cristoffer, but he didn’t want that, I told him he could sleep here surrounded by my stuff if that made him feel better and I could take the sofa, and then he grabbed me.” She pushed him and said she was going to Eskild’s and Isak’s, he grabbed her again, begged, she broke free, he ran to the front door, Noora yelled at him, “I shouldn’t have, I should have tried to reason with him, I freaked out, I felt like I was trapped.” Linn and Cristoffer came out. “I don’t get it”, says Sonja, “He didn’t even drink that much.” Linn and Cristoffer look at her, swift introductions are made. “He just loves you too much”, says Cristoffer, and to Eskild’s surprise, Isak is the only one who doesn’t roll his eyes at him. “Is he… Does he… I mean, once Even got really clingy and… stuff.” 

Not that they know of, and they don’t get to find out. William apologizes the next day, via text, he says he loves her, calls her the love of her life, adds some cheesy stuff about finding each other again on their next life and informs her that he’s going back to London with his dad, cause he has to protect her from himself. The first time his Noora laughs carelessly again is at their small Christmas gathering, when she has to kiss Eva after Linn drones they’re standing under the mistletoe. Sana approves and Vilde cries. More teenage drama. Eskild low-key wants out. And of course Yousef just needs to suggest vaguely that Even might not be doing so great, “maybe drop by?”, Sana shakes her head. “Even hasn’t asked him to. Isak has to respect that.” Isak bristles a little at that, “I was not planning to.” 

Eskild is a bit peeved too. For Jonas’ birthday, the four kids went for the weekend to some cabin, “bro trip”, courtesy of Eva, who had begged her mom to allow them to use it, as a birthday gift for her ex. He didn’t really get to make use of the apartment in the kid’s absence, since Noora moved herself in and yes, of course Eskild’s priority is to comfort his sweet girl and not kinky sex with a submissive bear he found over GrowlR. It paid off. By Sunday night, Noora was still blue, but eating healthily and back to wearing her trademark red lipstick, while Isak came back luminous and noisy, a bit smelly and a tad too unapologetic, cocky and inadvertently rude, and fuck, Eskild had missed him so much.

“I’ll come with you, if you want.” He’s not sure if it’s the right course of action, but three days of moping and very little appetite, even in Christmas, although the four of them had cooked together, (orphans de facto that they are, of course they spent the special date in the company of each other), are trying Eskild’s limits. “I think Sana’s right. If he really wanted me there, he would have let me know. He did once.” Nothing happens. Eskild decides he needs some serious partying and some awesome sex, or this waiting for the other shoe to drop on behalf of his two unruly teens is going to send him prematurely to the grave, and he plans to honor the longevity tradition that runs in his family. 

Instead of doing just that, as he so deserves, he attends Eva’s New Year’s party. Teens and more teens, and though a couple of them make eyes at Eskild, he won’t take the risk cause how can tell for sure if still seventeen or already barely legal? He decides to leave early and find himself some real fun, more fitting of his age and needs. His mission here is accomplished: Noora seems to be happy, attached to Eva who, for a change, is not drinking excessively, but merrily dancing in a circle with all her friends, and Issy is there too, trying to learn moves from Mahdi and that girl he briefly dated or led on, Emma, and not failing so miserably. 

He’s putting his shoes on when the cursed boy joins him. “Hey” “Hey, wait for me? I’ll just say bye to the guys and we can walk home together.” He actually says he’s not going home, but Isak doesn’t hear him, cause the music is too loud and when Eskild speaks, he should have shouted, the boy has already his back to him. So, that’s how he finds himself, once again, playing nannie, on New Year, when he had already written himself in for a party full of hot guys willing to make him see a special sort of fireworks. He’s brooding a bit, while Isak talks and talks, Jonas wants to get Emma off his back, but, haha, she can be insistent, now he knows, Mahdi is looking for a job, he wants to move out after he graduates, his mom is awesome, but so overwhelming, Magnus is thinking of joining the army, he doesn’t know what’s happening with Vilde anymore and he doesn’t want to speculate cause Noora told him it’s not appropriate, they’re gonna have a mixed Russ bus, though they’ll just use the van and not a proper bus, he and Sana both got a six in their latest test, “I was freaking out, cause I got a five last year, but yeah, a ton of stuff happened, but now I truly feel like I have this in the bag.” Eskild is fully prepared for a lovely, but still a bit lame for two young gays in New Year, night of conversation, innocent games and, perhaps, silver linings, light cuddling. Instead, when he closes the door behind him and turns around to take his shoes off, he collides with Isak’s body, face so close to his, the lovely mole over his upper lip is a bit blurry. “Is this okay?” No, it isn’t. No, they shouldn’t. It’s nothing bad or unheard of, two bros, two gay friends with occasional benefits, guru and grasshopper, the Greeks and the Romans did it all the time. Marry me. I’m yours forever. Have my babies. 

It’s indescribably sweet and beautiful, to the point where Eskild panics cause he doesn’t know where they’re gonna take this and how he’d go without it, What do you want, baby? What do you like? “This okay?” It’s just sex, but this is Isak. This is him. “You sure about this?” “You’re the person I trust the most in the world.” That seals it. Eskild could never ask him anything he’s not ready to give. “This is just whatever you want it to be.” Am I enough? Isak looks at him, trembling lip and confused eyes. He shrugs, extends his arms towards Eskild, suddenly this is just exactly what should happen. “I want to have sex with you. Do you want me?” I would have married you that night I rescued you from that bar and a life as a reluctant hustler, but instead I did the noble thing and adopted you, but it was worth it, everything was worth it, even if it’s just for this one night. Fuck. He’s screwed. He’s twenty-three and Isak’s eighteen. In his innocence, untouched by heartbreak and the shit life’s thrown at him, Isak doesn’t see the enormity of this moment. Eskild does. They’re so not ready for this. 

He still goes with it, you only live once and all that, I won’t love you any less, I will wait forever, I’m used to that, we will be, sooner or later, what are the odds of being knight in shining armor of the sun of a boy your friends just told you about. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Eskild. Just wait. I’ll save you right back.” Isak falls asleep, almost immediately afterwards, sweet trusting boy, I will protect you from everything, what have you done to me? Love exists, it’s so real, and it’s here, in this bed with him, safely tucked in his arms.

It’s the perfect start of the year until he wakes up and his first vision is of Isak seated on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. “Even texted me.”


	6. Chapter 6

Hi, dad.

Hey, kid!

I think I might need you to come and pick me up.

On my way. I’m gonna put you on speaker while I get there, okay?

Alright. ☺

 

Two weeks and a half into the third month, he crashes. He stays with his parents for the rest of the month and the beginning of December, and then a new surge of energy propels him back to his flat. It’s fine. He figures the low point probably had to do with nostalgia: anniversary mark and some other firsts. His world didn’t end when he briefly saw Isak at Magnus’ party. What if he went a teensy bit cause he wanted to see him? It was not a repetition of the aftermath that followed the first coincidence at Elias’ place. He left early cause as wonderful as all those kids might be they’re not his crew anymore, he’s got his own cliques, yeah, in plural even: the same old Bakka bunch, the people from work and the film buffs. He didn’t crawl back home crying to poke into the wound by digging up memories of better times immortalized in home videos. He should finish that second part he left pending, though. When he’s done and about to upload it in the Art Vandelay channel, he changes his mind, and instead he sets “The Boy who Couldn’t Breath Under Water” as private cause there’s no point in giving or keeping false hopes: love can be epic, but it doesn’t last forever. 

It’s just the season. It makes weird things to people in general, and even weirder stuff to him and his weird psyche. He’s gonna resist. He’s gonna fight. There’s no other option. He knows what he feels. He’s not gonna turn into the man who hurts himself and the love of his life time and again cause his mind plays tricks on him. Yes, Isak is the love of his life. No shame or harm in admitting that. Whoever Even gets his happily ever after with, Isak will always remain that. 

He distracts himself: dusts and cleans, buys groceries, makes himself a delicious meal. He doesn’t eat much of it. His body is still in survival mode, so it won’t allow him to waste energy sorting flavors. He makes a positive out of a negative by inviting his parents for dinner. “Why don’t you come home for a little while? Just til December’s over. You know it’s a difficult month.” He shakes his head. His mom has only his well-being in mind, but he has to pull through. He owes it to himself. He has to take control of his life and his moods. He needs a support system whose involvement he can administer rationally, not occasional baby sitters in the form of his parents, a girl with a hero complex or a boy who loves him so much his fragile body collapses with bouts of insomnia, irritability and anxiety. 

Loved him. Past tense. Isak, after all, ignored that embarrassing, probably manipulative text he sent in a moment of weakness or desperation. If he hadn’t, maybe now they could be sharing this delicious meal (he made the fucking Moroccan meatballs Isak pigged on at Sana’s party), laughing at Even’s stupidity and screwing each other and their “minute by minute” mantra to favor promises of forever. Even can’t complain. He won’t. It was just an impulse, a passing lack of better judgment. That’s why he didn’t stay to see if Isak ran to his rescue again. (Who can swear on their own head Isak didn’t come, though?) He’s actually thankful his indiscretion didn’t end up hurting that sweet boy. He thinks about going out and having fun, maybe meeting someone. He doesn’t. He calls Mikael, who comes immediately, followed by Elias. “Are you scared of being alone with me or something?” “Do you want me to punch you?” “Maybe I just want to see you jump.” His friend does, tackles him, makes him laugh. Elias silently judges them. This is nice, this is simple. He’s determined to stay on the healthy path and cherish his friends, without complicating his life with relationships he’s nor ready for or degrading himself with casual sex he would be engaging into for all the wrong reasons. 

Some days it’s easier to get out of the bed, take a shower, cook for himself, go to job, meet the deadlines for projects and homework. In general, he’s a functional, content young man. He doesn’t miss a day at the Café and his efforts pay in nice cash. Christmas is quickly approaching, so he makes a list to buy presents and launches himself into the frenzy. He spends in packaging and wrapping supplies an amount dangerously close to the cost of the presents. It’s worth it. The tree he’s set up with the help of his parents (he could have done it with Isak, their first tree, Isak would have lifted him up on his shoulders to place the star on top, just to be a clown or a show-off, cause the tree is actually shorter than Even), looks so beautiful with all the adorable presents scattered at the base, it’d be a waste not to dedicate it a small photo session. Then, it feels unfair to deprive others of the pretty pictures, and since he’s feeling stronger, he decides it’s time to give a second chance to social networks. He creates an Instagram account, chooses a simple and charming pic as his profile one, types “there’s only this universe” in his bio, posts a carefully selected pic of the tree (he minutely analyzed all the possible versions, impersonating three different types of jurors), and then types Isakyaki to find people. 

The boy has come back, with a Nas quote as his bio, “life is fucked up but yo, this life is the only life I know”, which makes Even smile wider than he’s been capable of since his stupid, stupid decision, and has re-uploaded some of his old pictures, not a single one including his ex. At least there aren’t new guys. The same old squad, Eskild, the girls, William Magnusson, Christoffer Schistad, Yousef, Sonja? Wtf? The latest upload is one where Isak has his head resting on his mother’s lap. His recently re-inaugurated Instagram shows him smiling, making faces, pensive, being a teen with ups and down but who has definitely come out victorious to the other side. Even feels honestly happy for him. He doesn’t know where the pain that doubles him over surges from.

It’ll pass. He goes to his parents’ for the duration of the Holidays, just to please them; he’s doing better. He feels immense, full of love, like floating, pain and negative emotions bounce off his natural shield of joy and expectation. It really is the most beautiful time of the year with all the lights and the glowing snow, he goes out to buy Isak a last minute present, cause he’s not petty and it’s quite time to make amendments and offer his friendship to the wonderful boy who gave him the best days of his life. He texts Sonja cause yeah, she’s wonderful too and gave him two unforgettable years, despite the problems of the additional two that were their common mistake: “Merry Christmas”. She sees it but doesn’t send a reply. How rude. He considers texting Isak too, but swiftly changes his mind. He’s in a very vulnerable moment and he’s not sure how the boy will reply or what his own racing mind will make of Isak’s words. Somehow, as Isak’s gift, he ends up buying a ring.

Of course he doesn’t give it to him. His thoughts might be racing a bit and he’s guilty of some impulsive actions that at the moment might have seemed like good ideas, but ultimately he’s in control of himself. He doesn’t tell about it to anyone and he doesn’t return it to the store either, it’s his little secret to decipher and ruminate. He takes it out of the small box every night, contemplates it, tries it on each one of his fingers. Once, he even measured it against the girth of his cock, and he can proudly say it didn’t make it past the slit. He ends up wearing it. Why not? He’s gonna be paying for it with any extra income he scrapes for the next six months, so he deserves the small treat. He gives himself another one, a tattoo on his bicep: 21:21.

It’s a rough week. It always is, but when he tries to get up of bed for a morning shift at his job, and his body refuses to obey, he understands it’s worse than he initially thought. “I’m not depressed. I’m sad.” “Honey, come on.” “Okay. Maybe I’m a bit depressed, but this time there’s a reason.” “Okay. What is it?” “What do you think?” “Even, it’s been four months.” “I know. I’ve been counting.” “It’s just the season. You’ll get over it.” “I won’t. I’ve tried.” His dad, unprecedentedly, gets irritated, tears in his eyes, cracked voice. “Try harder!” He resists for two days. Then, the switch's off, he's out of order, deactivated, come back later, have a nice day. His mom feeds him, his dad helps him with hygiene. He cries through all of it, every minute, every action. He talks to his psychiatrist, “it’s not heartbreak, it’s a symptom”. It’s real. He’s real. He knows what he feels, so he flushes the pills down, together with his shit. He’s been obedient and meticulous. Now they’re just trying to numb him so his feelings for Isak don’t get in their way. He texts him. Nothing that could be suspected as manipulative or crazy, only just a bit too insistent, which was only prompted by Isak’s lack of immediate response, anyway. “I’m sorry. I know I hurt you. I’m going through a bad time and I’d really like to see you. I know I’m probably imposing, asking too much, but I really, really need to see you. I’ll be at the apartment. Our apartment. Can we just talk? I love you. Do you still love me? Let’s find our way back to each other in this world. Happy New Year.”

Isak comes, preceded by a text that’s too impersonal, clinic and considerate, nothing like his Isak (“we might get a nuclear bomb dropped on our heads tomorrow”) “I talked to Mikael. He said it might be a good idea that I go, but feel free to tell me if you change your mind. Remember when you’re in this place your feelings can be confusing.” When Even sees him, when he feels him among his arms, warm and palpitating one hundred and thirty pounds of blond, sweet boy, he’s saved. “Only I can feel what I feel.” Even shows him. “I bought you a ring and I got a tattoo.” First, Isak looks startled. Then, he looks so sad, it’s Even who starts crying and doesn’t stop.

“What’s going on?” He’s not asleep. He just keeps his eyes closed cause the light wounds him and his eyelids are too heavy. He doesn’t hear his dad’s entire explanation, just the final bit: “He needs to get out of this on his own.” They’re gonna make Isak leave. They’re gonna tell him he doesn’t need him, they’re gonna tell him he’s hurting him, they’re gonna tell him he doesn’t love him, it’s just a sick idea he’s come up with. Everything in him screams to fight, yell and trash, seize Isak, become violent against those who are trying to take him away. 

He can’t move. Isak leaves. 

Alone. Isak doesn’t need more crazy people in his life. I don’t understand shit right now. Stop texting me. A symptom, a lie, a fixation, a sick idea. I’m sorry, it’s just not working, It’s not the same. A repetition of Sonja. You don’t love me anymore? I’m sorry. Just tell me where did I go wrong. I’m sorry. Please, just give me another chance. I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I’m sorry. I know I can. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I’m sorry. For you, I’d do anything. Princess Vivian. Yellow curtains. Cardamom! Save me right back. Infinite, in infinite time. Breathe. Open your eyes. Eat something, eat now. Move. Move! Get out of the bed. Get out of the fucking bed. He’s not gone forever. How many Isaks and Evens? Text him, find him. How many? Prove him you’re strong. You’ve gotten out of this on your own. You were just sad. You’re okay now. You just made a mistake. The two of you in infinite universes. Isak came.


	7. Chapter 7

Drop by? There’s food for an army here.

Cool.   
Gotta take care of something first, though.

What’s up?

Mom texted me.  
Sorry. It’s Even.  
He texted me. Asked me to go see him. 

Not a good idea.

It’s cool. I’ll just check on him.   
Save me some food, pig.

Not a good idea.

I’m okay, Jonas. Even’s not.

So call his parents. You already know the drill.

He’s with them.   
I won’t be long.

He’s manipulating you and you’re letting him.

Get your own life, Jonas. I can be his friend.

You’re an idiot. That shit’s not good for you.   
Or for him.  
Fuck.  
Isak.  
Issy.  
Fuck, Isak, you hanged in there like the fucking Che Guevara just to screw all your fucking progress now?

It’s not like that. I’m just trying to be a friend.   
I had a thing with Eskild last night.

A thing?

We hooked-up.   
I don’t know. It was cool. Sweet.

You’re a fucking idiot.

Why?

Stay with Even or whatever. 

 

Fuck off, Jonas. What’s your problem?

 

No. Fuck you and fuck Even.  
And Eskild.  
You’re a fucking mess.

 

I’m sorry about earlier.   
Can I still come?

 

You okay?

 

Yeah. His parents told me it was not a good idea that I was there.

 

I’m sorry about earlier too.  
They know better than us how to deal with Even, Issy.

 

I guess. I just want to help if I can.  
It’s cool. 

 

Just come home, idiot.

 

At Chris’ party, he tells Sana he’s not a religious person, but he believes in angels. “What?” She laughs in his face. It peeves him. “Don’t be a bitch.” “Don’t call me that or I’ll hit you.” He tries to look contrite (he’s not), and she gives him a pass. “Who’s your angel?” “Not you.” Lies. She kinda is. Sorta. One of them. He also has Jonas and Eskild. Ugh. That could have been the biggest fuck up of his life, yeah, bigger than the one with Eva and the numerous ones he’s recently realized ended pushing Even to a dead end. It’s whatever. Unfortunate in love (not so much, though, he wouldn’t trade his time with Even for anything less than an eternity with him), fortunate in other stuff, like friendship, and he’s always had the friends he doesn’t really deserve. 

“I’m sorry. It was a mistake.” Eskild grabbed him by the shoulders, wiped his tears, forced him to look into his eyes, “It was not a mistake. It was beautiful and I’ll always cherish it. You were single at the time and it doesn’t change anything between us.” “I’m still single. It’s just…” He couldn’t risk trying something serious with Eskild, “baby, if you wanted an exclusive relationship with me, I’d delete all my dating apps and block every casual fuck from all my social networks, if you want to be fuck buddies, friends with benefits, I’m not gonna say no to the fun either, but if all you need right now is your guru, here I am, the sofa is ready and the consulting room is open”, while he was still so confused about Even. A fucking mess. Fuck buddies could have worked, but Isak would have eventually started complicating it with fucking feelings, and while it wouldn’t have been so much of a problem before, slow progression for a change, with Even back in the scene, it would have been just self destruction and probably the last nail for his deal (what’s between them, anyway? Who picks up a drunk orphan from a gay bar, punch the predators off him, doesn’t fuck him or feeds him dick, gives him shelter, gives him food, gives him all his fucking love and even a pity fuck when needed?) with Eskild. “Guru, please?” “Come here. I’ll tell you just once you’re super hot and good and awesome, and you took me to heaven among fanfare, fireworks and volcanic eruptions, okay?” “Thank you, Eskild. You were pretty awesome too.” “Say I’m your sex guru, at least.” Isak laughs, “pffft”, and it doesn’t take more to make whatever is between them right and so comfortable again.

He’s not the only lucky one, though. For the second time in this life, Magnus Fossbaken, that loon, has left him in awe. Turns out homeboy is the real knight in shining armor, cleverly disguised as a clown. When Vilde broke up with him, no explanation whatsoever until that party where she professed her love or something for Eva. It led nowhere. Poor girl. Now Eva’s gotten super close, well affectionate, cause they were always close, but in a sort of dating but not dating way, with Noora. They don’t kiss, but Eva has stopped hooking up with other people and they walk with hands entwined, play with each others’ hair, sit on each others’ lap. Isak’s not gonna ask, cause once upon a time he wouldn’t have liked anyone to ask him why he orchestrated a gang fight to avenge Jonas, yeah, any bro would do that for his bro, but he’s not gonna be an hypocrite and deny he had ulterior motives. 

What if Even and Jonas had done that to him? Poor Vilde, honestly. But there she is, intense as ever, rooting for her girls as if they hadn’t broken her heart (Isak couldn’t, he’d disappear and secretly wish they both cheated on each other, Jonas with Mikael, preferably, and Even with him, haha), clumsily trying to enjoy “the full lesbian experience” as she called it, to Noora’s dismay, and getting rejection after rejection cause she’s always hitting on the wrong people, Ingrid and Sara, really? And yeah, Sara might or might not say shit behind Vilde’s back, but Ingrid laughed in her face in front of everyone. Eva and Sana are welcome to their own preferences, but Isak would prefer harmless old hypocrisy in a similar situation. 

And Magnus has been there through it all, standing besides her, ready to catch her in his arms and play the supportive friend part, no gratitude (just like Isak, Vilde is not exactly generous with it) or any form of reward or recognition back. Magnus has been Vilde’s Jonas, with the difference that he is still in love with her and he still low-key wishes that maybe, someday, she’ll realize she’s actually bisexual and Magnus is not a bad candidate for husband. “I’d take an open relationship. I’m not a jealous man.” 

Isak, on the other hand, is no angel and no one’s fucking savior. He punched Mikael cause he and Even were talking, looking into each others’ eyes, and he’d like to say he did it just cause Even looked uncomfortable, a bit scared, but the truth is, he mostly did it while thinking, you fucker treated him like shit, made him want to fucking end himself, and now that I’ve made him whole, put that beautiful, shining smile on his face, you dare pop back to steal him and reap the fruits of my efforts, my labor of fucking love? There you go! It’s not pretty, and he’s glad he grew up pretty quickly and the air was cleared, he’s glad Elias punched him cause if he hadn’t been bleeding, mildly concussed and bruised for a week, Even would have probably hated him, kicked him sooner to the curb. 

Isak could have never dealt with an open relationship, “if you don’t want anything else, stop texting”, “it’s difficult not to give a shit about Sonja”, or maybe he would have accepted it, if only to stay with Even, but he would have been so resentful and bitter and their lives would have become hell. Maybe that’s why Even called it off. Break up with your girlfriend of four years and jump into the void with a closeted guy you’ve barely talked to, stable for a week? Let’s meet your parents, announce it to the entire world, exhibit it in the streets, time to move together and talk about marriage, we’re both almost done with high school anyway. Manic pace. It burnt out. His dad was right, Even’s parents were right, Jonas’ hesitations, “move together? Are you pregnant or has either of you been diagnosed with a terminal illness?”, Eskild and his concerned reassurance, “do what makes you happy, but you know you’ll always have a home wherever I go.”

He might not be at Magnus’s, Eskild’s or Jonas’s levels, but he had really thought he could be there for Even. He had really wanted to be. He only left cause his parents said it was for the best, and yeah, Jonas’s right, pride’s stupid when Even’s well-being (maybe his life, fuck), is at stake, and his parents know better how to deal with him. And maybe he was a bit of a coward as usual and also left cause the ring and the tattoo kinda freaked him out or almost made him fall again, face first, droplets and droplets of water in his throat and in his lungs, no way to come back to the surface. But how’s that normal? How wouldn’t that be taking advantage? So Isak texted him, cautious and mindful of Even’s vulnerable moment, actually striving to do the right thing for once in his life. “Your parents said it was best if I left, but whenever you need me there, just let me know and I’ll go”, and it stayed unanswered for a day, and seen for another one. It would have been easy to leave it at that (it would have been advisable), but he still tried to reach out and he texted Even’s dad and Mikael. His dad said Even was going to be fine, repeated he needed to get out of it on his own, and Mikael told him Even didn’t really want to see anyone. “Please, when you talk to him, let him know, if you think it won’t be harmful, I’m worried about him.” Mikael’s answer pretty much replicated his own words. “I will. And if you talk to him, please tell him we all miss him.”

A couple of days passed and since he hadn’t gotten news from any source, he opted to send a meme. Memes are good. It would’ve let Even know he was concerned and open to conversation, but wouldn’t have made him look too insistent. He got a “thanks” and then more silence, which he didn’t break with anything else cause that would have been a bit pushy? 

At the end of the week, he realizes he’s definitely no Jonas or Eskild or Magnus, just the lucky selfish bastard who got two out of the trio (honestly, how come the worst assholes in their group, he’d punch someone for Vilde, but she is who she is, got them?), cause although it stings and he thinks a lot about Even (okay, he might have cried a couple of nights), he’s not desperate or terrified anymore and he’s chosen to believe Even’s dad, who’s just kept replying to his few messages with the same old mantra, “he’ll be fine, don’t worry, take care of yourself”, or some variation of that, and now chooses to respect the distance Even’s put between them again, and feels actually relieved, if a bit deflated, when Yousef reports that Even’s still a bit distant with everyone, but he’s back on his feet, has started catching up with uni, didn’t lose his job and is very thankful for his concern.

The ring, the tattoo and Even’s silence. Isak knows what that means. So nothing has really changed, it was the usual deal, a symptom, a sick idea, he slaps himself in front of the mirror, cause he knows that was just Sonja’s heartbreak talking. “Do you ever go back, you know, to feeling like that?” “I’m not following?” “You know? Like you’re not really over him, like you never will be.” “No. Not anymore. Five months into our messy break up? Of course. Once in a while, and I would cry all day, eat a kilo of chocolate, I don’t recommend it, by the way, your face would explode, but the next day I went out to exercise, I put some make up on and I went to my job.” “I’m so sorry.” “Not the point, Issy.” She grabs him by the ears, makes him look into her eyes, honestly, how’s he gonna pay for all this in the afterlife? “Let yourself feel and let yourself cry. It’ll pass.” 

It does. Even’s indeed fine, back to his own apartment and Isak was not his savior. He pulled through on his own. If he’s not Magnus or Eskild or Jonas for Even, it’s cause Even doesn’t really need him to be. Or maybe Isak just won’t take that kind of shit from a lover. Why would he? “You’re responsible for yourself.” So, he goes to Eskild and hugs him, kisses him on the forehead. “I can’t be in a relationship with you and though I respect that you’re a fuckboy or whatever the gay version of that is, and I’m not putting myself above that, I’m not like that. That was part of my mask, so I can’t go either for the fuck buddies deal.” Again, it’s all good, all fine. He keeps to himself his hopes of maybe, one day, becoming brave enough to jeopardize his friendship with Eskild for something more with him, cause he’s not gonna be that jerk who leaves doors ajar and open windows just to have a pair of willing arms on the side, while he’s out there taking risks and enjoying life. 

Mahdi throws a nice, small party for his eighteenth birthday and Isak is able to enjoy it so much more than Chris’ where he was still caught in the unhealthy illusion that he could play hero, that he should be a hero. He’s sorry for Noora, who somewhat relapsed after William’s birthday, and though he knows their situations are different (William is an asshole, while Even simply stopped loving him and afterwards got manic), he’s happy he didn’t, after all, became a ghost of his own person for a man. 

He studies with Sana, he visits his mom, he argues with his dad and gets in trouble with him, he finds a better job, he and Jonas make a deal to stop smoking weed cause it was becoming a problem for his best friend, he hangs out a lot with Mahdi and with Noora and Eva too, who’re on and off, not official, just two best friends with tons of benefits, like himself and Eskild (or Jonas, lately, shhh), who starts bringing guys home (Isak takes it like a champ), “Does it make you uncomfortable, baby Jesus?” “No. And if it did, it’d be my problem to solve”, he clashes with Even a couple of times at Sana’s place, that bright smile he used to love so much (well, it’s still a lovely smile, but Isak’s world doesn’t hang from it anymore), is back on place and yeah, it still illuminates the room and makes Isak smile widely and go a bit weak in the knees. 

“I’ll be having a small party”, Isak might have been distracted by the smile cause he doesn’t connect the dots til his ex arches an eyebrow, “you know? February twelve?” “Oh! Right! Twenty-one! Dude, you’re like a total adult now!” The eyebrow arches up higher and Isak starts sweating, cause was that an inappropriate thing to say? You can’t be ageist with a twenty-year old boy, right? And he was in no way implying Even was incapable to “adult” just cause, well, just cause! “So, are you coming, dude?” He cackles in relief and yeah, Even might be contagious or something, fuck, that’s really wrong to even think, but he’s just too happy to see Even doing so fine to put the brakes on his brain. “Sure. Your place?” “Yeah. Same old.” “Awesome. Time?” “Starts at eleven, but come earlier, so we can pregame together.” “Thanks, man, I’ll pre-game with my crew, though. Is it okay if I bring Jonas?” “As long as he doesn’t punch me in the face.” “Nah. Of course not. He’s over that.” “Fine. Then as long as you’re not dating him.” Oh, he knows this game and he’s up to it, cause if Even wants to tease him a bit, have his fun, Isak now knows how to give him a run for his money without stirring the shit. “I’m not dating anyone. You could’ve just asked.” “Ah, cool. I’m not dating anyone either.” “I hope that’s changed for the twelfth.” “Let’s hope together.” Fucker. Isak can’t even be mad, cause the guy’s always been a flirt, and it’s a sign that things have finally become normal between them. He notices his hands are shaking violently when he sits back in front of Sana and reaches for a pen. Whatever. That’s normal too.

It’s what makes him decide to go alone. He’s a big boy. He can spend a couple of hours celebrating a friend’s birthday in an apartment he used to live in. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come too?” “I need to do this on my own.” “Okay. Call me at any time. I’ll stay home. Piece of advice from your guru? Try not to drink too much.” Eskild pecks him on the lips, chastely, and then holds him at arms’ length. “You’re so beautiful.” Then he turns him around and sends him on his way with his trademark slap on the butt. He’s happy that Eskild with his golden heart thinks he’s good-looking, but he hopes it doesn’t seem like he’s attempted complex production for the event. He hasn’t. He’s just wearing a beanie, cause fuck, it’s cold, and generic clothes that keep him warm and won’t evoke the past. In a distraction, he almost chose the green jacket he wore back then when Even took him to the Radisson Blue. 

A few meters before reaching his destination, Isak gets cold feet. What if Even’s just inviting him to play a prank on him? What if he gets there and the lights are turned off and everything’s silent? What if, even worse, he gets there and some horrible humiliation is in store for him? Even never offered to delete their sex videos, after all. 

He’s being stupid. Even is not that kind of asshole.

“Isak!” He gets some looks, a hug from birthday boy and fuck, he still smells like that. Most faces are unfamiliar, so he’s about to text Eskild the pink bow or a bat signal gif to Jonas, when Yousef and Elias, who’s looking very handsome in the same Moroccan outfit he wore for the Eid party, rush to his aid. The relief is short lived: Even throws an arm around his shoulders, and it’s all flight or die again. Neither happens, but he hides. What the fuck is Even thinking? He keeps bringing his guests, one by one, in his really lame version of conspicuously and clever, to meet Isak. “21:21 boy?” Some Latin American friend Even’s made at uni, who vigorously shakes Isak’s hand and who struggles with his Norwegian. “Is he doing okay?” He asks Mikael in a whisper. The guy shrugs, smiles somewhat sadly. “I think he is. Lately we don’t see so much of him. He’s got himself new friends, you see?”

There’s more sparkling wine than beer. Isak rolls his eyes, goes to the kitchen, gets himself one can, he doesn’t care if it’s from Even’s personal stash. He notices there haven’t been many changes in the apartment, but it feels foreign. He almost gets worried when he sees a picture of the two of them adorning a pillar, but it’s just there lost among photos of Even with his parents, his friends, Sonja, some guy he doesn’t recognize, from the past, considering Even looks really young. It’s fine. He’s just another face in Even’s story. 

The space is too small to dance. Even announces he’s in the mood for it, so they’re all heading to some club. “Come?” Isak says yes, and he’s somewhat glad of getting out of the crowded space, maybe now he’s in for some fun, but he starts stalling once they’re out and ends up staying behind. Yousef and another one of the Bakka boys apparently have used a similar strategy, cause they collide on the way. “You’re not going?” “Nah. Not my scene. How come Sana didn’t come?” “Not her scene.” They laugh. “Wanna go for a kebab?” the other guy, Mutta, asks. “Who’s gonna say no to kebab?” parrots Isak as an answer and chuckles. His phone vibrates in his pocket. Even. “Gonna head home”, he types, “little high-school kid is not ready for glamorous university parties.” “I’m sorry I neglected you. Please come?” “No, no! It’s alright. I was kidding. I had a great time.” “Where are you? I’ll go back for you.” “I’m heading home. Thank you for a fun night. Happy birthday!” He puts it back in his pocket and ignores the next vibration.


	8. Chapter 8

Are you guys coming?

 

Yeah. Isak’s making himself pretty.

 

Tell him he’s already pretty.

 

You’re so sweet, Sonjabean, but please don’t lie to him.

 

Fool. You adore him.

 

I do. I do. He’s my personal baby Jesus.

 

You’re so weird, Eskild. Hurry up!

 

Yeah. Alright. By the way, make sure you have halal.

 

Oh. I see. ;P

 

Eskild doesn’t understand Even’s angle. Hot and cold, back and forth. Ugh. He’s met some guys like that, didn’t think their cute and vulnerable James Dean would turn out to be one. “You’ll only hurt him again. You’ll hurt each other.” “I’ll wait til he’s ready.” “What if he never is?” “He will be. We’re meant to be together, guru.” “I’m Issy’s guru. Don’t take it the wrong way. I just don’t think I have a single thing to teach you.” Even catches the slander, which doesn’t impress Eskild; he already knows the boy is sharp, only confirms Eskild’s worst fears. “It’s me, Eskild. I’m the same.” So breakable, eyes liquid, full of pain, voice about to crack, this sweet boy can’t simply be a remarkable actor and Eskild can’t simply be a supreme idiot. 

He feels the impulse to throw himself at him and hug him, cuddle him, protect him, erase the last few months from history and time, come live with us, let’s have a happy forever threesome. “I just don’t understand where this soul mates stuff went when you decided to dump him.” “I forgot what was really important. I forgot this is the real world, with ups and downs, with moments of blinding brilliance and also dullness and routine. I made a mistake.” We all make mistakes, we all break young boys’ hearts, we all treat the people who trust us, who love us, who’d put their lives on the line for us, like trash. We’ve all taken someone for granted and then lived to regret it. “I didn’t think you were going to leave Sonja.” “I know about that.” “But then I didn’t think you were going to break Issy’s heart.” 

He doesn’t wish him any bad, but he’s seen stories like this unfold. Even’s a good player. He might very well love Isak as much as he assures now, but he won’t settle down. He’s met his fair amount of “manic-depressives” who only bring the symptoms up when they need to justify shitty actions. He knows everything’s very real with Even, not an invention or a convenient leeway to scurry away from responsibility. He’s seen it. He’s lived it and cried quietly for the beautiful boy who drags his feet with every step and loses seven pounds in a week, or runs wild with adorable ideas that once or twice have ended hurting himself, Isak and everyone around them. That’s why he doesn’t understand how he didn’t fight more, didn’t come up with some crazy strategy, change environment, change their entire lives to hold onto each other without interruptions, defy logic, face the naysayers, fight the world, but never each other. 

If he ditches the romantic sap (who adores Even, who has utter faith in him, who clings to the idea these two boys are some queer re-encarnation of Romeo and Juliet, with a happier ending, please), who cohabits in his psyche with the practical realist (the one who won’t make commitments til he’s thirty, who won’t sign fucking banknotes he can’t afford), he’d say it was okay as a first experience, first love, first everything, but Isak’s better off without him. He’s also encountered his fair amount of wonderful and beautiful, hurt and sick boys who don’t really want to be saved. They just reach out to drag others down. 

Eskild is not being greedy, wanting to keep the boy for himself. The romantic could very well smother the realist for those eyes and those lips and that body he now has the pleasure to know very intimately. It’s a very remote possibility because of Isak’s newfound confidence and pragmatic perspective of life, “I’ll always love Even, but our time has passed, it’s really improbable that your first man ends up being the man of your life, anyway” and in less, but still significant extent, the new frequent visitor. “He doesn’t like me that way, Eskild.” Well, excuse him for getting the wrong impression, but the boy’s been present in Isak’s life in one way or another since Even’s birthday, and he’s been showing up, firm flesh and hot blood, every fucking day for the last couple of weeks. “Eskild, he came out recently to a bunch of Muslim boys. They’re very nice and very respectful, but he needs friends he can relate to in a different way.” Eskild lets Isak’s patronizing speech slide with nothing more than a slap on the butt, cause he has a soft spot for the boy (For Mutta. Isak’s an ungrateful brat kinda on the lousy side when it comes to bedroom activities): however open minded a person and their family might be, it must be somewhat difficult to be a gay Muslim, right? It doesn’t hurt that he’s also handsome, soft spoken, with an easy, big smile. 

Isak might be right about why the boy’s suddenly finding their company so enticing, but Eskild has a good eye for this stuff, and Mutta does look at his baby Jesus with a curiosity and a glint in the eye that wants to be more than friendly. They text a lot, they talk on the phone, Isak left him on speaker, cause “I’m busy, man, gotta wash the dishes, clean the windows, Eskild’s a mad slave runner. What’s wrong with just texting?” “Nothing, but I wanted to hear you.” Mutta’s not a hopeless romantic or a super extra kind of fool. He’s not even evidently (or consciously), trying to woo Isak. No flowers, no gifts, no excessive flirting. Soft gestures, pensive looks, attentive silence (as if half of what his Issy says wasn’t entitled and offensive bullshit), and Eskild’s favorite bit: the subtle physical contact to gain each other’s attention, to lead the other in a certain direction, “My hand’s bigger than yours, see?” Eskild swoons, and there it is, Isak’s blush and the guilty smirk. Even’s fucked. Good thing Eskild gave what Isak needed at the time he needed it and took what the boy felt like offering when he had the chance and didn’t put his heart in the line.

“You guys should come have dinner at my place sometime.” Parents. Muslim parents. What? “He just wants them to meet his friends. He invited us both.” “He’s Even’s friend.” “So?” “So nothing. It’s alright if you don’t feel anything anymore, but it’ll look petty if you’re going with this out of revenge.” “I’m not Even’s property and my life’s not determined by him. For all I care you two are free to start fucking each other.” 

Eskild gives him the cold shoulder for two days after the outburst, until Isak comes knocking on his door late at night, hoodie up, unshed tears in his eyes, yada, yada, yada, and Eskild can’t resist. “I’m sorry. I care about the both of you. I’m so sorry.” “It’s alright. It’s fine. I’m not mad. It’s true. You’re not anyone’s property. You’re free to do as you please.” He welcomes him in his bed, cuddles him, keeps him safe. “What was it? Nightmare?” “Mom’s sending pics.” “What kind of pics?” Gory pics. Pics of sinners, sodomites and other perverts being punished on earth. It’s not a threat, but a warning. A mother’s tender heart trying to protect her sweet son and losing the battle against her own fractured mind. “Why doesn’t she get better, Esk?” “It’s okay. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m here. You’re not a sinner. You’re a good boy.” “Do you really think I should stop talking to Mutta?” “No. No. I mean, if you really feel something for him…” “No. I don’t. I mean, he’s handsome, he’s nice, we talk, we have fun, but I really don’t think he likes me that way. And if it’s gonna hurt Even or put a strain in their friendship, it wouldn’t be worth it, anyway.” 

The dinner doesn’t happen and Mutta starts showing a bit less or Isak goes out with a lame excuse when he drops by, and leaves him in Eskild’s company, begs his roommate to say he’s in the shower instead of taking all of his calls, doesn’t reward selfies with selfies, no more pics of the two of them alone on Instagram, just “los tres amigos”, which stars Eskild in the middle, distance, clear boundaries, “I wanna be his friend, but it wouldn’t be worth it, there’ll be other boys, right, Eskild?” I’m right here, in front of you, fuck. One day, someday. Eskild nods and hugs him tighter. “Plenty of men. Mountains of dicks, an avalanche of balls, a river of cum.” Isak laughs til he becomes purple and Eskild has to give him water, while laughing along, “Breath, baby, breath, it’s alright”. 

They make love, have sex again. Eskild knows he should feel guilty, bad. It’s impossible with Isak’s taste still on his tongue, he ate the boy out until he stopped worrying about it being dirty, unsanitary, having an accident, they made each other come with a sixty nine, and his pliant, warm body curled up among his arms. “You shouldn’t come to me to have sex.” Isak immediately starts getting away, “I’m sorry”, but Eskild keeps him in place, this queen’s stronger than he looks, eat your prejudices, sissy boy, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that you shouldn’t feel like you have to come to me or to Shitstad to scratch the itch. There are plenty of guys who would cheat on their life-time partners or their sugar daddies for a night with you.” 

Isak is quiet for awhile. Then, he nods. “I know.” “Seriously. You could have any guy. Any guy.” Once more, confident, serene, “I know. I just like to do it with people I care about.” Eskild cocks an eyebrow. “You care about Christoffer Schistad?” “I’ve never done it, done it with him. But, yeah… He’s… familiar. Safe.” “Who else have you… I mean… is it just me?” Isak blushes, chuckles. “I don’t kiss and tell.” Fancy that. Eskild doesn’t prod. No need to be a genius or a prophet to put two and two together. “Alright.” Even’s so fucked. 

Even chops onions without blinking. What a man. “I don’t want to blame it on anything. I was being stupid. That’s it. I made a mistake.” He sighs, lifts his gaze from the task, one of his hands trembles a bit, so he closes it in a fist, opens it, closes it again. “If I could turn back time and all that.” He’s starting with the second and last onion, when Eskild makes his move. He’s not trying to be meddlesome, split them up for good, collect spoils of war. There’s a very sweet and very sad boy who he’s seen at his happiest and at his lowest making dinner for his oblivious ex and offering his heart out. “But have you tried? I mean, with someone else?” “It hasn’t felt right. I mean, not the sex. That’s easy. There’s always a willing guy or a woman.” He turns his head towards Eskild and does a double blink only Isak’s eye-rolling could rival, “I’ve been told I’m not a sore sight.” “You’re a fucking vision. Out of my Issy’s league, to be honest.” “Don’t say that.” 

He gathers the pieces of onion. “If anything, it’s been a formative time. Nice experiences. I just don’t want the rest of my life to be just that.” “The rest of your life will be at least sixty more years, Even. Don’t ever tell him I said this if you get back together, but there will be more Isaks.” Even shakes his head. “Never an Isak.” Once more, he describes a little spin to confront Eskild. “I made the biggest mistake of my life. But maybe it was for the best. Maybe I needed the time apart to realize what I actually had.” “But what if… Even, baby, what if this time apart made him see you two were not… you two…” His gaze hardens, he swallows hard and shakes his head. “I’ll keep going with my life. I’ll finish my career, work in the Academic field, which is what I want, maybe make a certain movie, though I prefer script writing. I see myself having a child. Right now, I’m planning on adopting a dog.” 

“Issy’s kinda adopted your friend Mutta.” He won’t mention Jonas. Honestly. Who could fight against that? Even, blissfully ignorant, laughs. “I know about that. Mutta is my bro, but don’t think I plan to sit back and watch.” “Issy says nothing’s going on.” “What do you say?” Where’s the sweet boy with the clear gaze and the musical laugh? “He hasn’t been in a relationship since… you know? I mean, he’s had… fuck, I feel like a snitch…” “It’s fine. I know about Shitstad. He’s a fuckboy. Not dangerous. Mutta, on the other side…” “Why aren’t you honest with him?” “I thought you said nothing was going on?” “Baby, it will.” “Bros before hoes doesn’t apply?” “Except Issy is not a hoe.” He hasn’t meant to raise his voice. Who the fuck does this little asshole think he is? Strutting in and out of their lives, chopping their onions in their kitchen with their knives, tricking Eskild into giving him information, ready to mess his baby up again? Why the fuck is Eskild the one who has to make space, take the step back, give the territory up? 

“What’s up?” Isak, with the three musketeers in tow. They exchange looks among them and after a pause, Magnus goes to hug Even while Jonas comes straight to Eskild and Mahdi distributes handshakes, “come here, little idiot”, slap on the butt, the boy yelps, Isak is patting Even’s shoulder. “What are the two of you up to?” He seems happy, not really awkward in front of his ex (the love of my life, I feel like there’s tar in my lungs or something), not suspicious or jealous about the clandestine rendez-vous between two people whose dicks he’s had in his ass and deep-throated. “Where’s my kiss?” Eskild demands. Isak rolls his eyes but still strides towards him, one, two, pecks him on the mouth, “We’re making dinner.” “We’re going out”, says Jonas, who nope, won’t register his best friend’s ex. “Yeah. Gonna spend the night at Jo’s. Fifa and Nas.” He winks an eye at Even, who grabs Isak’s wrist when he’s about to leave, opens his mouth, closes it, doesn’t look an ounce manipulative or cunning, fallen idol with his gorgeous face stained and his chest cracked. 

Isak smiles, zero malice, and fuck, that has to hurt and then twists the blade, “What? You want a kiss too?” Even lets go of his hand, eyebrow raised, gaze cold. “Not this way. Never this way.” At least Isak has the decency, the kindness to look ashamed, “Even, I’m sorry”, “Have fun, Isak. Bye.” “You can’t kick him out of his own house, man. Oh, wait. You already did that once.” Even’s not fucking defeated, there’s fire now in those eyes, but Jonas holds his ground, Eskild can smell the testosterone, and yeah, it turns him on just a tad, but Isak, party pooper, averts the conflict, yanks his best friend (fuck buddy, who the fuck you think you’re deceiving?) out, “Shut up, fool, Esk’s place too”, and they leave, Mags throwing one last sympathetic glance over his shoulder, “Who the fuck are you calling Esk? It’s Eskild, even if it takes you more time!” “Yeah, Eskild, guru, sorry, man!” And that’s that, out the door they go, probably no shoes on, without whatever they came back for. In the silence, they look at each other. Fucking onions have made Eskild tear up and sob. “It’s alright”, Even tells him, envelops him in a hug and kisses his forehead. “We’ll be alright.” 

Fuck it. Team Even.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey! Where are you?

Gonna head home.  
Little high-school kid is not ready for glamorous university parties. 

I’m sorry I neglected you. Please come? 

No, no! It’s alright. I was kidding. I had a great time. 

Where are you? I’ll go back for you. 

I’m heading home. Thank you for a fun night. Happy birthday!

It won’t be happy without you here. ☹  
Isak, come on.  
(Missed call)  
Take my call?  
(Missed call x3)  
Isak, the truth is I don’t feel like partying anymore if you’re  
not here. Tell me where you are and I’ll join you. We’ll celebrate together.  
Party for two sounds good? :D  
It’d be my birthday gift. You didn’t get me one, after all.  
Honestly, you’re ruining my birthday. ☹  
(Missed call x4)  
At least answer your phone so we can talk?  
(Missed call x2)  
At least answer so I can hear your voice.  
Whatever.  
You don’t give two fucks anymore.  
They’re playing our song.  
I miss you. I miss you so much. I’m sorry.  
Where is he?  
The man who was just like me  
I heard he was hiding somewhere I can't see  
Where is he?  
The man who was just like me  
Heard he was hiding somewhere I can't see  
And I'm alone, and I realize that when I get home  
I wanna go through my red and my cherry  
Yes I'm alone, and I realize when I get home  
I wanna go through my red and my cherry  
I want someone who like the champagne I like  
My a-alike, someone to talk me off the bridge any day or night  
She teach me how to live, she ain’t afraid of life  
Not esily impressed with the rick and famous life  
Cause she done been there and heard all the rumors before  
She love or she ride out with me on my music tour  
She like the herbs, natural medicine, she cooking good  
She tell me everything is cool when it ain’t looking good  
Froze, I couldn't react  
I thought you loved me  
I thought you cared for me  
I thought you needed me  
Did you believe in me? 

I’m sorry, Even. Are you okay? My phone died. 

Even in text you’re a bad liar. XD XD XD

No. Seriously. I stopped reading your texts after I told you  
happy birthday, but then it died in my pocket. 

Okay. I’m really sorry. I got a bit intense. I drank too much.  
Don’t read all that crap. I was drunk.

Cherry Wine, Even? Really?

I’m sorry. I was drunk. I sent the lyrics while I was bitter  
and drunk. I don’t even remember sending them.

Alright.  
But you’re okay, then?

I drank too much and too quick. Ask Mikael if  
you don’t believe me.

Okay.  
I’m glad you had fun.

Honestly? I didn’t have fun. I got drunk off my mind to stop thinking about  
how you ditched me. XD

I didn’t ditch you. I was tired. I went for a kebab with  
Yousef and your other friend and then I went home.

They told me. Mutta says hi.  
And I’m not okay.

Are you staying at your parents’?

It’s not that. I’m heartbroken, Isak.

I think you’re hung-over. Please take care of yourself.  
Maybe stay with your parents or Mikael for awhile.

Can we meet and talk?

Kinda busy right now.  
Job and helping Vilde and Eva with the revue.

Yeah. I heard they had lured you into that madness.  
How’s the job going?

Fine. Not super stimulating, but pays the bills.

Haha. You sound like an old man.

Haha.

Say yes to coffee.  
Make it up to me for ditching me on my birthday.

I didn’t ditch you!

But now you are.

I’m just in a hook right now. 

Tomorrow. Three o’clock, Kaffenbreriet.

XD Thursday, tho?

Okay. I’ll pick you up.

Nah. We’ll meet there. 

Okay. 

Deal.

Can’t wait.

From the door, Isak smiles at him. The same nervous and jumpy one he had when Even invited him to the sabotaged Halloween pre-game, right before impressing him with that locker trick. Even can’t believe his own actions have put them both in this position again. Isak wets his lips and fidgets with his zipper before squaring his shoulders to come closer. “Hey.” Even stands up. Should he kiss him? Screw it. He’ll just kiss him. He leans forward and Isak plops down on his chair. They exchange a look. Are we really gonna do this dance? Huffing, Even sits besides his ex. An uncomfortable silence passes. Isak smiles again, forced, mouth closed, there’s no coffee or food to hide behind. Even gets nervous, he’s sure about this, is he sure about this? He stalls, “Should we order?” Isak charges on, “Jesus, Even. What were you thinking?” Even pales for a second, cause he really doesn’t remember typing the lyrics, and he would never, ever hurt Isak, but he might misunderstand, oh fuck, don’t show Jonas or Eskild. Isak’s peeking under his sleeve. He was referring to Even’s lovely tattoo. Even chuckles, relieved, and Isak’s openly laughing now. No awkwardness or nervousness this time, no mockery either behind it, just friendly amusement. 

Even hates it, he’d take any of the other options. So he decides to be the scorned kid he’s feeling like and just shrugs and pouts. If Isak hadn’t avoided the kiss, they’d probably be together again by now, picturing the others’ reactions to their news and planning when to move back to the apartment. “I was just missing you.” “Next time you miss me, call or something. What are you gonna do about it?” “Nothing. It’s just a number. And you’re the love of my life.” Even hopes what he meant to be an intense look into his eyes and his dramatic exit towards the counter makes Isak understand this conversation doesn’t have possibilities of being reduced to some “exes who now are buds” reunion. _They_ can’t be reduced to that.

The biscuit feels heavy in Even’s stomach, his throat dry in spite of the mint tea. Isak is just having a large coffee. “So how’s everything?” If he doesn’t want this to dissolve in casual, meaningless chatting, yeah, take care, you too, bye, see you soon, never again, Even knows he has to take risks and put his cards on the table, wear his heart on his sleeve. No excuses or delays now. “I want to apologize.” Isak knows exactly what he means. He shakes his head, takes another sip of his coffee, doesn’t meet his eyes. “S’okay. We both screwed it up. I’m over it.” Even touches his wrist, look at me, look at me, this is important, we’re changing each other’s lives again, save me now and I’ll save you right back whenever you need me. “I’m not.” 

“We’re not doing this.” Isak places his half drunk cup on the table, throws his napkin in it, zips his jacket up. Even keeps him gently in place with one hand on his shoulder. “Hear me out. Don’t I deserve, don’t we deserve at least that?” “There’s no we anymore, Even, and you deserve much more than to waste words on someone who doesn’t want to listen to this.” “I know you’re angry.” “I was hurt. _This_ is making me angry.” “I’m sorry I hurt you.” It gives Isak pause. He sighs, his voice is kinder, less of a warning, his body relaxes. “At least you didn’t lie to me.” “Isak, it was a mistake. I made a mistake.” “Stop.” “Everything was new and I was… I’m sorry. I love you.” It is that simple. Why he did it, what he was feeling at the moment are irrelevant details. This is his truth. Isak breaks the spell. “Stop.” “Isak…” “I’m not letting you do this to me or to yourself.” He doesn’t slam his hand against the table, but he raises his voice. What happened to “only you can feel what you feel”? “I’m not manic. I was drunk yesterday.” Isak speaks softly, doesn’t glance around, he focuses on Even’s eyes. “I know that.” “Then why are you… Why aren’t you… You don’t love me anymore?” 

I’m moving on, I’m better now. You’ve no right to come and do this now. Bye. Even gave chase and Isak ran. It was almost funny, until Even understood it wasn’t really, so he stopped and texted him instead, like a normal person, “I’m sorry. I really want to try again. Please. At least let’s be friends and see where it goes from there.” “Even, you have a tattoo alluding to our relationship on your arm. It’d be weird.” “Okay. I’ll see if I can erase it or turn it into something else.” He doesn’t even try, but he keeps it hidden, careful that his sleeve never rides up in Isak’s presence. Sometimes, he notices the boy peeking at his shoulder and yes, that gives him hope.

Friend or foe? Eskild is an ally, Jonas will never forgive him and what the fuck does Mutta think he’s doing? “What’s the deal with Issy, man?” “He’s nice.” “He’s way more than fucking nice, Mutta, don’t play dumb.” “What’s your deal, man?” “We’re not over. Isak and I. You know I want to set things right.” “I don’t know, Even. One day you want him back, the next one you say you need to let him go.” “I’ve got a tattoo for the guy. I think that’s pretty consistent.” “We’re just friends. Isak, Eskild and I. He’s easy on the eyes, and if you two didn’t have history and you weren’t my friend… I don’t know. He’s not into me anyway. Eskild and Isak are the only gay guys I know.” “I’m one too.” “You’re pansexual. It’s not the same.” “I like dick too!” “Yeah, but it’s not just an option for me! Even, I know you won’t get it, but once in a while I really need to just chill with people who don’t give a fuck about boobs.” “Okay. For me, Isak’s not just a guy I can chill with and forget about boobs for a while. He’s the love of my life.” 

There are so many questions in his friend’s eyes, all of which Isak voiced at some point, why would you stay with me when it’d be easier to settle for a woman, what when you crave pussy, what when you want to have a kid, a fucking family, why when my family is such a mess, I’m such a mess, what when I can’t hold you, hold myself up, why when I’m not pretty enough, not smart enough, not good enough, why, what, when, all the questions that made them scream, made them fight, pushed Even into a corner, into promises of forever he maybe was not ready for. All the doubts that broke them up. “We’re just friends. But, Even, and I say this because I don’t want you to get heartbroken after you’ve tried too hard, I’m not sure anymore if you’re the love of his.” Even would take all the questions again, answer them instead of yelling to shut them up, escape to avoid them, he’d open his arms and embrace, instead of closing his fists and pushing back. Their forever started that first day of class he had the good fortune to lay eyes on the wannabe blond thug who keeps redefining his universe.

Sana doesn’t celebrate her birthday, but Elias does. It’s a nice gathering, with no alcohol, but a lot of food and some dancing. He invites the girls and Mahdi, who brings Magnus, Even asks if he can tell Isak, Elias sighs, “of course, I would have told him myself, but… His gay friend is welcome too.” “Jonas?” Okay, that’s petty. Elias rolls his eyes. “Eskild. You still have beef with Jonas, so let’s skip him.” He pauses, searches Even’s eyes, “If Isak comes, can you stay civil with Mutta?” “What? Mutta and Isak are friends. I’m happy about that.” “Mutta said you were being a jealous bitch.” “Bullshit. I was honest and yeah, I wanted to know his intentions.” “You’re his ex, not his dad.” “Don’t be mean.” “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, man. Nothing against the kid, but I just don’t see what’s so special about him to make up for this weirdness between two of my best friends.” “I love him, Elias.” “Your fucking tattoo talks more about obsession than love, but alright, I’m no one to judge.”

Isak says thank you, but he’ll sit this one out. Even gets irritated. “You won’t even fucking try.” “Try what?” “What the fuck’s with you friendzoning me like that?” “What?” “Oh, right. You don’t have a clue what I’m talking about. I was making dinner for you, fucker, and you left to play FIFA and listen to Nas, who you would’ve never heard of if I hadn’t taught you how to pronounce his name.” “Bye, Even. Tell Elias happy birthday.” 

He’s not gonna let this just slide (for a second time), so he gets in the car his parents gave him for his twenty first birthday. It’s not an Ashton Martin, just a secondhand Toyota Yaris, in gray, but not only William Magnuson knows how to make an entrance, and if he goes for the James Dean style and the jean jacket, he surely doesn’t need the fucking motorized crutch. 

Works like a charm. Or maybe not. He gets to Isak’s and Eskild’s apartment, two feet of pure confidence and swag, rings the bell, Isak answers. “Get in the car” “What?” Isak cracks up and doesn’t stop, though at least he starts taking him somewhat seriously, resisting and pushing without getting to the point of hurting him, when Even grabs him by the elbow, attempting to drag him out of the apartment or into the bedroom, he’s not sure anymore. “What the fuck, you two?” Even knows he can most probably take Isak. Eskild, he’s not so sure, and the two of them definitely not, but whatever, he’d go down kicking and screaming. No one’s more startled and amused than himself when instead of doing just that, be a brute, be a caveman, Isak liked it sometimes, he stomps one foot against the floor, pouts and whines, “Why are you being like this? Why?” 

“I’m not playing hard to get. I’m not playing games with you. You know I’d never do that to you. You’re too important, too much.” Isak has one arm around his shoulders, fingers threading through his hair, like Mikael would do, like Elise. He shakes him off, takes the mug to his lips. “I’m sorry”, Isak says, straightening up, putting some distance between them, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

Even takes the mug with one hand, encircles Isak’s waist with the other. “You don’t make me uncomfortable. You make me mad. I don’t want you to touch me just like a mere friend.” “We agreed to try and be friends.” “I can’t.” Isak starts shaking his head, gets up from the couch they’re sharing. “I’m not ready to… I don’t know if I…” “Do you love me?” “Fuck, Even!” “Do you? It’s yes or no!” “It’s not that easy!” “It is!” “Everything’s easy for you. Kicking me out of our house was too!” “That’s Jonas’ talking.” “That’s me talking. I love you. Yes. But I am fine without you.” 

No way. It’s good that he’s not an emotional wreck, it’s great that he’s looking so gorgeous, no path of nervous acne from forehead to neck, no fucking ten pounds that come and go as arbitrarily as his ups and downs, no trigger or pattern, but he can’t be just “fine”. Either of them can’t be just “fine” without the other. “Better?” “Maybe. I don’t know.” So that’s why he called himself a great liar. “Are you seeing someone else?” “Not Mutta, if that’s what worries you. We’re friends. No benefits. Plain old school friends.” “Just tell me.” “No.” Isak shakes his head, sighs. “Not steadily. Just… Whatever it is, it’s nice. No obligations, just… taking care of each other. I don’t want to be in a relationship right now.” “Christoffer?” “Jeez, Even! Yeah. Okay. He’s one of them.” “What?” “What what? You’ve been celibate all this time?” “No, but… It doesn’t sound casual on your side, and that scares me.” “It’s not casual. It’s people I care about.” They need to move forward, they need to keep going. Maybe they won’t go back just yet to what they were, to what they really are, but Even’s not leaving this place (or letting Isak going out), before they take one provisional step in the right direction. “If you’re not ready for a relationship with me, can I then at least be one of those people?” “Even!” “What?” “You know it’ll lead somewhere else if it’s with you. I’m stupid like that when it comes to you.” He’s scared. He’s come to terms with not going back yet, but why take a detour that could last years and black holes of pain and doubt? “Do you really think it won’t lead elsewhere with fucking Jonas of all people?” 

Caught. Isak turns red, his eyes big, he swallows, coughs and his voice still sounds insecure when he denies it. “Eskild.” Alright. That is a low blow. “Eskild?” “It’s just sex and friendship.” “Eskild.” “It’s… Whatever. I don’t have to explain myself to you.” “Why would it lead elsewhere with me and not with the guy you actually live with?” “Cause I know how he feels about me and he knows how I feel about him. Cause I’m not still in love with _him_.” That fucking stare. Even only hopes it’s actually as piercing as it seems and manages to see his heart and how sincere he’s being, how life altering the result of this impromptu meeting will be. They’re going back here and now, they’re moving forward onto happily ever after and the rest of their lives. “Isak, listen to yourself. Don’t you think this whole situation is absurd? You say you’re in love with me and I think it’s obvious I’m in love with you. Why can’t we give each other another chance?” “Do you think I don’t fucking want back what he had?” The rage, apparently, is expelled in just that one line, cause immediately after, his hands start trembling violently and he’s crying. Even understands exactly what he means by his next words and why it’s so impossible for Isak to go back to being them, cause he sees it, right in front of him. “You hurt me.” 

“Baby…” “I know you didn’t mean to. I know you just did what you felt was correct at the moment. I’ve understood that. I honestly don’t blame you and you know I could never hate you. But I can’t go back to you. I can’t.” “You can. You’re just scared.” “Wow. Brilliant deduction.” “Baby. Isak. Man of my life, love of my life, I can promise you right now it won’t happen again.” “You don’t know that.” “I do. It was about going minute by minute before. Now I’m not afraid of looking into the future, into forever.” “I don’t know.” Even makes the decision for him. He’s ready to take responsibility. Whatever happens, in sickness and health, til death do us part and beyond the grave, heaven, hell or nothingness, worms, dust or stars. He grabs Isak and kisses him, two tall boys on a couch, molding perfectly into each other. 

Afterwards, with Isak still on his lap, after they’ve both stopped crying, arms aching from holding each other so fiercely, I’m never letting go, ever, we’re together in infinite time, in infinite universes, he looks at his fucking _boyfriend_ in the eye. “We still celebrate on November 25th.” Isak, hair sweaty and snotty nose, rolls his eyes and huffs a sad laugh. Even is in love. He never really stopped.


	10. Chapter 10

Won’t be able to make it to dinner, man.

And you open your mouth now? Really, Is? We’ve been cooking  
for hours and there’s food for a small army.

I’m so sorry. Something came up with my mom.

Oh. Is she okay?

Yeah. Nothing serious. I just need to keep an eye on her. Sorry.  
Eskild can join, though.

No. Let’s leave it for some other time.  
I’ll summon my crew. No food will go to waste.

Okay. Tell Eskild. I’m sorry, Muts.

S’cool.  
Let me know how it goes with your lady, okay?

Sure thing.  
Thanks for understanding, man.

Hey, Is. How did it go with mamma?

 

He’s a little shit. Hiding behind his ill mother and his big-hearted guru, using them to avoid responsibilities, to shield himself from little pebbles. “What’s going on with you and Mutta?” “There’s this thing called friendship between two gay guys. Have you heard of it?” “There’s this thing called my fist in your mouth if you don’t re-think the way you talk to me.” “There’s this thing called minding your own fucking business.” “There’s this thing called an asshole, and guess what? You’re it.” Sana is right. He is being a low-key asshole. Predictably, his situation with Mutta has stirred some tension among Even’s guys. He knew something like that could happen, considering Even’s feeling nostalgic or something for his ex, and he still went and had to poke that particular can of worms, stoking Mutta’s natural curiosity for another gay boy. Isak might be younger, but in their case, he’s the gay with the experience. He should just listen to Eskild, stop playing the broken little boy role and accept like an adult that sometimes life’s bitchy to everyone, no exceptions, and that doesn’t serve as excuse enough to smear a portion of one’s shit over others’ nice stuff. What if Jonas or Mahdi started going after Vilde? What if either of them liked the same girl? He’s seen the Hey Briskeby videos. He’s seen these guys interact. They might not be glued together by the same bond that keeps his own clique tight –yeah, his chest swells up, his chin goes high, he’s fucking proud of his boys, come on, when Isak came out they didn’t bat an eye, and when he was sad (not depressed, he does not have a mental illness), about Even, they pretty much took turns to camp outside his room— but he witnessed first hand how happy Even had been when he got back in contact with those guys. So happy, Isak got a bit jealous, sulked a little, got difficult, made Even’s life a little less easy, put a tiny crease between his eyebrows, another unnecessary knot in his neck, stacked up one more reason for the man of his life to walk out. 

He’s fucked up again. He should have made the boundaries clearer, not get complacent and self-indulgent, allowing the subtle and most probably unconscious flirting, craving Mutta’s, one of his ex’s best friends, attentions. “Let’s see a bit less of each other.” The other guy tenses up, seems about to say something, then falls back against the chair, with a sigh and a knowing expression. “People don’t have owners, Isak.” True. People don’t have owners, but this much Isak owes Even, the boy who tore all his walls down and smothered his internalized homophobia with soft touches and sweet kisses (not with knee-jerk reactions when it came to defending pride and guys who wear mascara and high-heels, nothing wrong with that, though), “I don’t want to hurt Even.” “Even. What about me? You don’t give a fuck about what I feel?” Isak can’t help but roll his eyes. Drama. Well, he had a part in causing it, so he has no right to be derisive at Mutta for it. “You know I do. Don’t be like that.” He tries to sound gentle, at least a little bit like Eskild, like Jonas, like Even. He places one awkward hand on the other guy’s wrist. “But he’s in a sensible moment or some stuff.” “He just wants to get back with you.” “I don’t know about that.” “Pffft. He told us what 21:21 stands for. He can chill, though, and you too. I’m not trying to get in your pants.” Isak curbs the sting, keeps his chin high. Mutta might be innocent, but to be completely honest, he can’t be so sure about himself. “Cool. But you and Even were friends first. I wouldn’t like it if Jonas started hanging more with him than with me.” Isak hates himself a bit for being the selfish brat who gets disappointed when Mutta doesn’t argue any further, “Whatever”, and stops every attempt to decrease the distance he’s been systematically interposing between them.

This is not about giving Even power, letting him back in. This is just about being the bigger man, a decent human being who won’t purposely mess up the delicate boy who had a big part (okay, the stellar role along with Eskild, maybe), in rescuing him from his own self-hatred. He’s very, very clear about the fact that Even is just going through some temporary agitation, maybe one of his unpredictable moods. It’ll pass. And if it doesn’t, anyway Even needs to forget about him and move on. Isak did. Isak ripped him off his heart, and yes, sometimes there still are butterflies, but that’s just nostalgia, first love, first cock, the notion that yes, it could have been epic, had it worked out, but no, it didn’t and Isak just doesn’t want to make the effort or take the risk for a second try, cause the possibilities are too flimsy of it actually working out and not causing even more heartbreak, back to square one, sleepless nights, all that pain, all those tears, I’m lost, I’m tired, I’m done, I honestly just wanna sleep, I honestly want to die. 

He remembers the thought, never said out loud, never shared in a social network, he remembers the nausea, the silence of the world around him, the heaviness of limbs, the haziness in his head, fighting to get up, to take the first step, and the second, and the third. At the count of three hundred and eighty two, it hadn’t gotten any easier and Isak was ready to disappear in the bottom of a well or, to be less dramatic, under his bed. Mahdi suggested that maybe it was a side effect of the medicine he was now on and Magnus smacked him for it. Isak is not self-destructive, so he didn’t allow the thought unwillingly implanted by his friend to fester, and kept being a good boy, a docile patient. He strived to get better, he fought to save himself, cause “no parent, no significant other, no best friend, no guru can do that for you”, and in the end his psychiatrist was proven right. Isak’s efforts paid off. He won the war. He killed the ultimate boss. He’s fine now. He’s enjoying the world and touches from other people don’t feel wrong. He’s not Even’s property. He’s not defined by his relationship with Even. Even’s not the best thing that’s happened in his life. He’s wonderful and he doesn’t regret their time together, it was beautiful and he’ll always remember it with love in his heart, eventually without the small pang that still squeezes his chest. He’ll never hate Even and he’ll try to help him as much as he’s able to (attend his birthday party, join him for coffee, stop talking to Mutta, answer his memes with more memes), but he won’t be unfair and offer him something he won’t be able to provide when things get heated, just cause he likes to feel special. He won’t be unfair to himself either. So, he sits his ass down and holds Jonas’ gaze when their hands unintentionally graze each other, as his best friend hands him the remote. 

Now what? Now what does he say to Jonas and Eskild and Mutta? (Cristoffer doesn’t count) What does he say to the world? Sorry, I’m weak, it’s too much of a great dick. He hides his face into Even’s armpit. “You should go to Elias’ party.” “And risk your mind going wild with second guesses? I go if you come with me.” “I can’t do that.” “Because of Jonas?” He pauses, closes his eyes. This is Even. He would still trust him with his life, even if once before he trusted him with his heart and he wrecked it. “You can’t tell anyone. No one.” “I knew it.” Even chuckles. No rage, no disappointment, no sadness. He doesn’t push him away. Isak closes his eyes against his man’s chest. Steady heartbeat, few stray blonde hairs, like a sweet halo, around his nipple. This is Even. “It’s just something that happened… has happened a couple of times. Like when you and Mikael…” This is Even and he’s still his petty, insecure Isak. Fuck it. They’ve been separated for seven months and Even asked first anyway. “Does that… It still happens?” “No, Isak.” Even hasn’t forgotten his doubts, his ugly jealousy, and still, he’s waited and fought to get him back. He kisses him on the forehead, looks into his eyes, voice reassuring instead of irritated, be quiet, be still, be light. “Not once after he freaked out the way he did that time. What about you?” He sounds amused, tender, his voice is the grave, comforting rumble Isak has forced himself to stop needing in order to fall asleep. “How far have you and Jonas gone? It doesn’t make a difference, but…” He laughs at himself, deep, eyes crinkling, fuck, Isak loves him so much and so fast and so easy, “I’m being stupid.” It’s alright. It’s fine. It’s okay to be stupid sometimes, to be jealous and resentful and throw punches before hearing an explanation. Maybe I’d like you to fight for me, get violent and murderous, become that kind of crazy guy. “Elias!” If he hadn’t gone down… He bites his own lips, hard, punishing, sodomites and other perverts, sinners. “Not that far”, he offers, “Just… light stuff.” Even cocks an eyebrow, smirks, looks him in the eye. “And Eskild?” Isak blushes, shrugs, he feels like a naughty child who’s gonna get out of trouble too easily. “Yeah. You know. Everything. He’s… experienced.” 

He lies on his back, interrupting all contact. Even doesn’t reach out. He just stays there, looking ahead the way he used to do, running circles in that mysterious head of his. “I just want you to talk to me.” “I can’t stand controlling people!” “I’m not doing that! I’m not trying to control you! I’m trying to help you!” “I decide who can help me.” Suddenly, snapping Isak out of the dark memories, “We could invite him for a threesome, if you want.” That’s what he comes up with, and Isak has to shake his head. Did he really say that? “What?” Swiftly, anger follows his astonishment, so what? It’s not news to Even that he’s got a temper. “Is that how we’re gonna be now?” Even’s hands on him, lips so close, eyes for him only. Isak could throw a fist, break teeth, crack a nose. Mikael barely stumbled and Elias sat him down with two punches. He tears up, wants to run. He’d been doing so fine. He doesn’t need saviors now. “No, baby! No! We’re always us. You said he was experienced and I don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out.” “I never felt like I was missing anything out! You did!” It’s pure venom and anger. Go on, run again, kick me out, spit on our story, mock my heart and my silly dreams of a love that can’t be contained in a single universe. Even hugs him, “I did. And then I realized I was not”, and that ends every hesitation, pulverizes all resistances. 

No need for big speeches, complex explanations. I was wrong. I’m sorry. We’ll keep meeting each other, we’ll keep hurting each other, we’ll keep loving each other. We’re always us, in every universe, in every minute. Nose burrowed again in the safety of the man of his life’s neck, shoulder, armpit, chest. Cage me. Lock me up here with you. Make yours the only other human face I get to see. If you asked, I wouldn’t set foot on the streets again. I’d live off your skin and beer. Isak laughs at himself. So fucking whipped, so fucking dramatic. “Do you really think we will be alright?” “As long as you can forgive me…” Whatever happened, it’s in the past. This, now, is compensation enough. “It’s not like you cheated on me or anything like that.” “But Jonas was right. I kicked you out of our apartment. I behaved like an ass.” “I agreed to leave. I couldn’t have stayed there after… After. It was already paid and it was a nice apartment.” 

He’s missed their shared silences: no worries, no pervasive thoughts, no fear. He’s falling asleep when the questions arises. “When will you move back in?” The panic strikes again with full force, the terror of being just him, of walking again those eight hundred steps. “Not right away.” “Issy…” “It was too soon. My dad and your mom were right about that.” “It’s not too soon now.” “I can’t just get up and walk out on Eskild. He left the Collective for me.” “Then I’ll come here.” “It’s a two people apartment.” “We’re a couple.” He’s gonna keep nurturing his silly dreams, make them strong enough to survive charming blue-eyed pansexual boys who promise epic romance one day and the next send him on his merry way with a smile and some casual apology. He sets his foot down. “I need time, Even.” “Isak, we’ve been apart for nearly seven months. How much more time do we need? We missed our anniversary and Christmas! I know it was my fault, but if we’re together, we’re together! It’s us! Of course it’s gonna work out!” Minute by minute, you’re not alone, I’ll save you right back, I’ve never felt anything like this before, in another universe we’re together for all eternity. In another universe. It comes out as a sob and all the tears he was too proud to cry in front of Even that night. “I was sure of that the first time around.” Even’s hands are strong, solid, real, here and now. “That was just part of our history. Did you stop loving me?” Did I? I can live without you, though. Right now I still can. Get out before he drags you back under the water. “I already answered that.” “I didn’t either. I never stopped loving you.” Even wins. He always does. Isak might complain, “why the fuck do you always walk away like that?”, but he still follows. Every time. 

Against Even’s shoulder, his long fingers tangling and disentangling in his curls, his chest raising and falling beneath his back, Isak calms down, becomes able to think rationally, for the sake of them both. “We were apart for as nearly as long as we were together. It has to count.” “It does. We learned. We grew stronger. We found our way back to each other.” “Even, if I go to live with you again, and you decide it’s not working, and kick me out, I won’t have a place to go. I can’t expect Eskild to kick whomever might be living with him at the moment for me or change places again for my sake.” Even shakes his head, as certain as when he scolded Isak for doubting they would get married and serve hamburgers at the reception. “That won’t happen. I can’t make you believe me and I understand how difficult it is for you right now, but I’m sure.” “What if I feel it’s not working for me?” “Then, I go. You stay in the apartment and I’ll keep helping you pay for a year, if you need me. But, baby, I’ll make it so good this time around, you’ll laugh when you look back.” “That’s not how it goes. It’s always difficult for us.” “We’ll have our problems, yeah, but we’ll overcome them. Together. That’s what’s most important. This time around we stick together, no matter what.” The idea of ever having this boy out of his life, out of his heart is already absurd. He chuckles, looks at Even from under his lashes, smirks conspiratorially. “Evak?” “Even and Isak. Forever.”

“Go fly. If you need to come back, you’ll bunk up with me til the other’s contract is done.” Eskild takes it very calmly. “We won’t be sleeping together anymore.” “We will sleep together. Maybe with Even too. Sadly for you, we won’t fuck.” Eskild winks at him. “Unless, of course, you boys want to spike it up with a threesome now and then.” Isak laughs, shoves him half-heartedly and allows himself to be pulled into the embrace. Keeping his head on Eskild’s shoulder, having his head petted by his guru calms him too. “Do you think I'm rushing it?” “Do you want the truth?” Isak sighs, braces himself. He can predict Eskild will destroy him, but still he needs to hear it. “I want your honest opinion.” “Okay.” A pause, a long sigh, heck, this guy likes his dramatics. Finally, he comes out with it. “I think you're falling back onto his dick too easily.” Isak rolls his eyes and snorts. That’s so Eskild. “For your information, I have yet to go anywhere near his dick.” “My God. You don’t even know how to get some fun out of it. Whatever. My point stands. Yes. It's too fast cause you still have very deep feelings for him. It's not just trial and error, it's not just fun. Not for you. Sorry to break it to you, Issybaby, but your thug pose doesn’t fool a blind granny: you’re a sweet queer boy who has romantic dreams and hopes of forever.” No point in fighting Eskild on it. He denied himself, punished himself for so long and with such ferocity, he’s earned the right to be exactly as cheesy as he is. “Even said he was ready for forever.” “Isak, when you want a dick, or well, an ass in Even's case…” “Fucker. I don't always bottom.” “And I don't always top, except with a bottom like you.” “I regret having sex with you!” “Sure you do. No one measures up.” Isak can't stop laughing amidst the anxiety and the exasperation, and it feels so good, so liberating, makes him feel less like he’s facing a monstrous conundrum whose resolution might determine the fate of the universe and more like he’s considering taking a small risk in his teenage life. Eskild hugs him, kisses his temple. He's going again into a committed relationship, no sleeping around, not even with friends he cares about, but this, Even will have to accept. Eskild's casual touches, occasional pecks. Isak definitely won't change the safety of these arms for all the potential happy endings. He lays his head on his friend's shoulder, allows himself to be swayed lightly and lovingly. He swallows thickly. “Do you really think he'll do it again?” Eskild runs one hand through his hair, breathes him in. “Or maybe you'll be the one leaving this time.” “I wouldn't leave him.” “It'd be okay if you do. Just like it was okay that he left the first time cause it was not working for him. Just love him or don't love him. Don't try to be his hero.” “Look who's talking.” Eskild blushes, hugs him so tight, Isak feels like he’ll fail Even when the month’s up.

Sonja disapproves. “Really?” Isak rolls his eyes. It’s his fucking life and he can decide to screw it without asking for anyone’s authorization. “I don't know anymore.” “Two questions?” “Shoot.” “Are you sure Even's in his right mind and are you sure you are too and didn't go with this to save him or in a kinda of caught up in the moment situation?” He stops being annoyed and actually gives thought to her wise words. “Honestly?” “I think I deserve it.” “Yes. Of course you do. I don't know, Sonja. I really don’t know. What would you have done?” “I would have said no, called his parents and run.” Once upon a time, she had told him pretty much the same thing, out of pain and anger. A sick idea, a symptom. Blinded by her own feelings, she had been unfair with both of them. “Isn’t that reducing him to his bipolar?” “It's taking it into consideration. His bipolar is part of who he is. It doesn’t suddenly go away when it’s convenient.” “But second guess his every action? Doubt all his words?” “What about that tattoo?” “Fair enough. I think that was that. Yeah. A bit crazy for anyone. That's why I didn't agree to anything back then.” “You would have otherwise?” “I don’t know.” She guts him, and the worst part of it, is that she doesn’t really want to hurt him. “I don’t think this is part of your love story. I think this is part of your ending.” “Don’t say that.” “I’ve been there.” “When he asked for a break and got with me and then got back with you? Yeah. That was kinda fucked up of us.” “Of him. But we already had taken two breaks before that. I guess third’s a charm.” Sonja knows Even. He said so once himself. She knew who Even was before Isak. Much like his bipolar, their shared history has to be taken into consideration, it’s part of who Even is, it’s part of who Isak is, it won’t just disappear conveniently. It’s changed them both forever. “I can’t not try, Sonja.” “It’s a fantasy. Yours and his. See what day to day life did to it.” “It never got too bad. We didn’t end up hating each other.” “No. Worse than that. He realized you were just a person, not the golden savior or damsel in distress of his dreams and he grew indifferent.” Isak must admit that if he gets angry it’s precisely because she might be right. When Even’s not threading fingers through his hair, keeping him warm and secure in his arms, his own fears, with different voices and faces tell him exactly that. “It was not like that between us. You don’t decide what Even feels.” “Alright. Do your thing. I’m your friend and I care about you and I care about Even, but please don’t count on me as an advisor when things get bad again. I’m past sorting out Even’s mess.” He lashes out, bitterly, resentful, it was just that one single time and it was for Even’s sake, not his own. “I’m past asking you or anyone else for advice when it comes to my boyfriend.” Sonja nods, stares at him with her big brown eyes. Her voice is serene. “Alright. I wish you two good luck.” One day he’ll grow up to be so strong, so unapologetic, so sure of his commitment to himself. “Someone wants to destroy their own life? There’s nothing you can really do for them. Speak your mind, tell them to get help, but don’t try to save them. You can only protect yourself from being dragged down by them.” He doesn’t think there’s a person who could knock this woman down. Maybe he should ask for her therapist’s contact. “Are we still friends?” “Of course. I just hope Even doesn’t decide he has a problem with that.”

Jonas gets angry, gets violent and then he cries. Isak can’t stand it. He almost offers to drop it, his new try with Even, his dream come true, just to get him to calm down. “What about this?” His best friend points alternatively at both their chests and sobs, and that scares Isak so much, cause fuck, for all his rebellion streak against impositions, the one concerning gender stereotypes included, Jonas’ not a guy who cries easily. Last time he did was at the school’s cafeteria, because Isak had barely eaten for almost three days, and Jonas’ reasoning, Magnus’ kind-hearted jokes and Mahdi’s sternness weren’t having any effect. “I’m okay. I just feel like throwing up all the time, I think I’ve a stomach bug.” “Oh fuck! Isak! That’s awesome! You got knocked up! Works like magic to get a man back. Can I be the godfather?” “For fuck’s sake, Magnus!” Mahdi was laughing exasperatedly and Isak actually cracked a small grin, but the sliver of humor became full-blown panic when Jonas began bawling. Needless to say, Isak swallowed half the salad Noora and William had made for him, drank the entire yogurt and didn’t throw up afterwards. 

He swallows hard. Oh, fuck. Well, it was nice, it was fun. Please, don’t turn me into this sort of jerk. He clears his throat, tries to sound tender. “It’s still the same? I mean, without, you know”, he attempts a lame joke, reaches out to touch Jonas, “that stuff that doesn’t happen?”, but his friend’s furious eyes make him retreat quickly. “So you were just horny and I was there?” Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Isak honestly doesn’t understand. He thought they were on the same page. Best friend and best friend with questing hands, and crazy hormones, having a good time. They could stop anytime they wanted. “No, Jo-jo. But if you got into a relationship I would have understood it had to stop?” Jonas’ rage dissolves into something worse: more tears. “I thought you and I were going to be in a relationship.” Isak physically jumps. Wait, what? Once upon a time, he backstabbed his other best friend for this, became a manipulative psychopath and a snake, piled so much shit at an innocent girl, who was so lonely that looking back, it’s a miracle she just tried to change schools instead of hurting herself. “That’s so fucking unfair! You never mentioned any of this!” He’s so lame, such a coward. He’s the one who’s being unfair. He should be comforting his best friend, one of the guys who has been saving him over and over (the other one is Eskild), offering to try with him whatever he wants to propose, instead of just going back to Even. At least if only to help him get disenchanted, prove him that’s not what their friendship is about, though yeah, Isak was confused once too, but Jonas’ steady loyalty throughout the years, throughout the worst, deserves all the sacrifices. 

“I’m saying it now.”

Isak goes quiet. No clean cuts ever, right? Isak did ugly things in the past, and he regrets them, he’s striving to make up for them, become a correct person, worth of the friends his been dealt, but he’s also fun, sweet, smart, gentle, good at karaoke, kinda pretty and with his enthusiasm in bed could take the most experienced guy to heaven, among fanfare, fireworks and volcanic eruptions. He knows what he wants and he knows who he is and, finally, he’s stopped hating himself. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, and I know how much I owe you, and I’d take a bullet for you, but I’m not gonna give up on Even.”


	11. Epilogue 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From now on, the different epilogues, told from different characters' POVs. Isak won't have one, since they all speak about him, anyway, and so the reader gets to choose which one they'll accept as true. ;)

I did something very stupid.

You’re back with him.

Is it gonna last?

I can’t predict the future, but do you want to get the hardcore version or the censored one?

Just say it like it is!

There are two options.

One happy and one sad?

You don’t end up together in either of them.

Fuck you, Eskild.

You chose hardcore.

Okay. Shoot.

It’s gonna be wonderful for some months, maybe a year, and then Even’s gonna do it again. And it’s gonna hurt like fuck, but you’re stronger now. You’ll be alright.

And the other option?

You’re the one who walks out. 

Would you still be my friend?

You mean if I’ll be there for you to glue your heart back in one piece or remind you that you’re not an insect, but a person with feelings who’s not obligated to remain forever at someone else’s disposition simply cause they’re bipolar? Goes without saying.

Are you mad?

I’m a lot worried and a tiny bit jealous.

Don’t be. 

Worried or jealous?

Either. 

Oh! I didn’t understand it was gonna be a threesome! I’m so happy, babies! Thank you!

Eskild, come on.

Yeah, yeah. Your dick is off limits but I’ve got a special place reserved in your heart? 

Don’t be like that. 

Alright, alright. You two lovebirds have a special place reserved in my heart too, but also one on my dick and in my ass. ;)

Fool.  
Don’t get ideas about Even.

;)

I love you.

<3

It’s fine. He’ll be fine. They’ll be fine. Right now, Eskild couldn’t give what Isak wants. Too many fishes in the water and the boy still entertains this very strict idea of love. Heteronormative inheritance, Eskild thinks. Whatever it is, he’s not ready to offer that. He’d probably cheat and break Isak’s heart and self-respect. Maybe in a couple of years or five or ten. There are infinite Eskilds and Isaks in infinite universes and infinite times too. Why would only Even get that? In this one, they’re friends, with benefits sometimes, and when Eskild turns thirty, they get together in whatever terms Isak is ready for. Meanwhile, Eskild will share the two-bedroom apartment with roommates willing to sign short terms agreements, and if Isak comes back before it’s due, they’ll have to bunk together for the little while. For his thirtieth birthday, Eskild will gift himself his own house, two bedrooms (one for their many guests), a balcony garden (not any dandelions, though), and lavender fragrance everywhere. Isak and Even can burn out their epic love story throughout these years. Eskild just craves the domesticity awaiting at the end.

There’s no bad blood between them. Just once, Even nudges him with an elbow. “No funny stuff anymore.” He winks an eye, or tries, smiles, blue eyes glinting, rays of sunshine right out of his mouth. Eskild laughs. He loves this boy too. He’s sorry about what the long-term future might bring for him, but Eskild’s earned it just as much. “Threesome?” Even gives him the finger, playfully. Can’t blame a man for trying. Then, his angel/rival gets serious. “I would if he wanted to, though.” Bad move. Do everything he asks of you, give him everything, then resent him, punish him, hate him and leave him. Or manipulate him into deep shit he doesn’t want, he doesn’t need, he wouldn’t try with gloves, if it wasn’t for you, lucky little freak. Eskild sighs, shakes his head. “This is not a movie. It’s yours and Isak’s lives. He’s a real person and you are too. Drawings and fantasies about parallel universes won’t make up for the shit you might, purposely or not, wring each other through.” Even seems to take his time to absorb it. He blinks, nods his head, pierces him with that pensive gaze of his, of those people who need to dissect their own thoughts and feelings in order to properly function, to survive. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sleeping together?” “It was not my place or my obligation to tell you. It was casual and sporadic between us, and you two weren’t in a relationship at the time.” The stare again and Eskild swallows. Even knows. He smiles, indulgent, kind, the smile of the victorious. “But still, right?” Eskild won’t lie. Fair’s fair. He shrugs. “So trust him, baby, but I can’t promise anything on my side.” They hug. Not rivals, not enemies, it’s not Eskild’s time. Even should get to enjoy his ride. “In six years, if you’re still together, look out. I’ll make my move.” Even laughs. “You fool. You’re every bit of the romantic I am.” 

Maybe, but he takes it like a champ. He keeps enjoying life, gets himself out of this voracious circle of teens, rekindles his neglected friendship with dear Linn, except he never tells her the two of us against the world, cause he’s saving that for someone else, sticks close to Sonja and her pals, makes himself less scarce for his own clique, makes new friends, reencounters Lito, starts browsing possible roommates. A month passes, Even leaves in a huff, slamming the door, so uncharacteristic of him. Isak’s eyes are swollen and red. “We broke up.” He takes his hand, hugs him. A predator would take him to bed, but Eskild is not one, so he just offers cuddles. “He’ll come back and you’ll regret it.” “Do you think he’ll come back?” “Yeah. Give him a couple of days to cool off.” “Even will come back and you love Lito.” Eskild knows the answer he wants, but he just kisses his forehead, makes him lie down against his chest and repeats, “Even will come back and I love Lito.” 

Even comes back and Lito leaves cause Eskild won’t move out of his rented apartment to the one the other guy owns now. “Why not? You wouldn’t need to pay for rent or anything. We could have a great life.” Thanks. Eskild has a good job and he could pay his rent on his own if he decided to start living with a strict minimum. A month becomes three, they celebrate Isak’s nineteenth birthday in the apartment, “Eskild! Where have you been?” Vilde, who looks as pretty and girly as ever hanging off the arm of some buff chick Eskild hasn’t met before, the massive graduation in a little van, barely able to fit them all, though Even and Isak still find space enough to get caught almost having sex (Isak’s drunk out of his mind, Even’s not so much better, Jonas throws a fit, Noora makes a speech, Eva demands to join in, Sana almost rips their ears off their heads, Chris boos at them cause she was enjoying the show), and it’s so beautiful and so hot, Eskild wonders if it really makes sense to keep that particular space in his heart reserved, Eskild’s birthday with a private dinner (the three of them), and then, of course, the gay bar, he picks someone up and Even takes Isak home.

When their second anniversary arrives, Isak finally agrees to move in, but afterwards the drama is revived, cause at Isak’s twentieth birthday, Even proposes, grand gesture and ring, but before saying yes, Isak apparently needs to see a bit of the world with Jonas, of all people. The wedding still happens, a month or so afterwards, following another break up (mostly due to actually justified jealousy, come on, Eskild loves his baby Jesus, but that pic of Jonas serenading a heart-eyed Isak with “I’m Yours”, according to the caption, was really pushing the concept of friendship, so Even finally gets fed up and texts “come back tonight or we’re done”, and poor thing, doesn’t even get drunk or go out to cheat with the first available warm body, just waits and waits and waits, and still Isak leaves him in “seen”), and the honeymoon phase is actually a small hell: Isak gets hurt, with actual blood on his forehead and a sprained ankle, “Jesus! What happened?” “I fell off the stairs.” “Don’t you fucking lie to me!” “I fell! I was chasing after Even and I fell! He could be actually dead now, so stop making stupid assumptions and help me find him!”, and Even goes MIA for two nights in a row. “I bought two first class tickets to Mexico and two pairs of cheap angel wings. I wanted us to reenact Romeo and Juliet. He didn’t think it was a good idea, so I got angry at him, said I didn’t need him and ran. When I’m in that head space, I can get irrational, but I would never hurt Isak.” Even stops, swallows hard, doesn’t look at Eskild when he extends the small dagger. “But I also bought this. Just like a prop, but still. I’m not gonna take the slightest risk.” Even proves his sincerity signing himself into a facility. “Please, take care of my Issy.” Eskild’s never seen Isak cry so much, not even when he got his heart broken for the first and second time or when he picked him up in that bar, accosted by two men twice his size, “Fuck you! They were clients.” “Silly boy. You aren’t a sex worker.” “I am now. I left home and I’m not going back. This is my home now.” 

Eskild gave him a home, gave him a family and an unconditional heart. This is his universe. Eskild’s the director of his own life. For two years and a half, Isak and Even keep fighting, real champions Eskild’s proud of, clinging to each other through every episode, every symptom, every failed therapy, and then Isak comes back, with the clothes he’s wearing (the Jesus T-shirt), his laptop, and his university stuff, no bruises or scratches, just hair in disarray, shaking hands and eyes and lips red and swollen: from crying and kissing Even goodbye.

The divorce is messy: they change their minds in turns, they fight, they fuck, they pine, both of them come crying to Eskild, who really doesn’t know what’s best anymore. He summons Jonas, who’s of no help either: equally crushed and acerbic, he just shrugs, “Maybe they’re meant to kill each other, die for each other like Even’s always dreamed of.” Still, he stays close, playing FIFA with an insomniac Isak and bringing reinforcements (Isak’s squad, the girl squad, William, what the fuck, Noora? “He was visiting and we’re civil, he cares about Isak too”), and keeps in contact with Mikael, Elias and Yousef to check on Even. The day they sign the papers, Even who had looked serene and composed, just sad, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one, I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way you deserve, in another universe we’re together for all eternity, remember that”, makes a new attempt against his life, so Eskild and Jonas lock Isak in the apartment, physically restrain him so he can’t go back to that, “you can’t save him, let him go”, and of course he resents them, hates them, threatens to call the police on them both, but the next day he doesn’t visit Even in the hospital, “it’d only make it worse, he needs to forget about you”, just keeps tabs on him via Even’s dad (Even’s mom pretends not to see him when they clash on the street), and one blessed day makes eyes to Eskild and of course, guru at your service, drops his pants, yanks off Isak’s, manhandles him to bed, fucks him doggy style, contorted like a pretzel, cradles him to sleep when he cries and cries after sex, and the next morning he steels his heart and encourages him, no tears, to explore everything life and sex have reserved for this wonder of a boy.

Isak graduates from university, big pompous title, Genetic Engineer, falls in love again, with William Magnuson, of all people, but it falls through when he refuses to move to London and William declares he can’t handle long distance relationships, gets his heart mended and the itch scratched by sweet old Mutta, who was back to Norway for the winter holidays, lands a nice job at some fancy laboratory, where he can keep climbing up, buries his mother (she kills herself after months of stability), officiates as best man at Jonas’ and Lea’s wedding (in the speech he mentions something about meeting her while she was peeing), and as witness at Sana’s and Yousef’s, welcomes Sonja and her pregnant belly back in their lives, (when Noah’s eyes acquire their definite shape and color, they turn out to be miniature copies of Even’s, “yeah, we had a fling, but we used condoms”, but Adam, who assumed all parental responsibilities, no questions asked or tests required, only he was not ready to settle down and had to go back to his dreamed job as art curator in Italy, doesn’t comment on it, his visits were scarce, anyway, though he was always on time with child support), in their flat, and it’s like the three of them become parents.

At Noora’s and Eva’s, they have their first official date as a couple. Eskild’s about to turn thirty-one, he’s already bought his house and Isak is twenty-six, a very remarkable doctorate student. Noah is one year old. Sonja marries an American guy, Steven, and both of them envy her a bit cause he’s quite the catch, and the new family move abroad. Isak’s broken-hearted, but can’t wish her anything other than the best. They’ll come visit for holidays and Isak and Eskild are always welcome to Manhattan. 

They see Even now and then. He travels a lot and has a talent for missing the important dates. He was an invaluable source of comfort at Marianne’s funeral, though. He’s a true free spirit, an artist to the core. Sometimes he drops out of therapy, flushes his meds and ends up crashing and crashes with them. He never found himself in Noah’s eyes, and he wouldn’t have kids anyway, cause “he doesn’t want to pass the bipolar”. He gets into every craft related to cinematography, and he’s pretty good at them all too, gets into new relationships, some steadier than others, but it’s not necessary to see him looking at Isak for Eskild to know. He thanks his luck, to be in this universe where Isak chose him at the right time, he trusts his husband and keeps his heart tender and his home open. At night, with or without one or other of their friends taking refuge under their roof, Isak and Eskild shed clothes, have sex (it’s always as tender and hot as the first time, and no, Eskild doesn’t always top), and fall asleep into each other’s arms. Kissing his husband’s forehead, keeping him cocooned against his chest, like the precious pouty thing Isak’s always remained through the haircuts and the training sprees, since Eskild first saw him, back when Noora and Eva were gossiping about him, Eskild knows he’s made it. “This is my forever”, he says out loud, challenging the universe, all of them, with a smile. Isak stirs, sighs, mumbles something. Eskild closes his eyes against the blonde, lavender scented curls (Eskild’s been picking his shampoo since they started sharing an apartment), with the happy certainty that, tomorrow, he’ll wake up to a little mole over an upper lip and a smile full of teeth gaps. Isn’t it amazing how much love there is in this thirty three year old selfish body of yours?


End file.
